


i'm betting everything

by aknightley



Series: Coffee and Crowns [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 12:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11184819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aknightley/pseuds/aknightley
Summary: A summer of dates between a prince and a boy who works in a coffee shop."I wanted to see you." Keith's eyes widen a little, and he ducks his head, but not before Lance sees the smile tugging at his lips. "This is the part where you say 'Me too, Lance,'" Lance prompts him, although he's ridiculously charmed by Keith's awkwardness."Of course I wanted to see you," Keith says, rolling his eyes.





	i'm betting everything

**Author's Note:**

> Here is a thing that was meant to be 10k tops, and then turned into...much more than that. Reading the first part is probably necessary for context, but you can probably get by just knowing that Keith works in his brother's coffee shop, Lance is a prince of Altea, and they really, really like each other. This is seriously just. Really very soft and romantic. Sorry in advance.
> 
> Title from Royal Pirates' acoustic version of the song "Betting Everything."

  _Queen Allura's coronation is the biggest story in the news right now, but there are still questions about the ousting of former Defense Secretary Zarkon and his closest employees for staging a coup against the then-princess. What alerted the queen and her allies to this attempt on her life? What intelligence was shared with the Galra Empire, and how connected were the recent attacks from Galran citizens to the attempted coup? Is there any truth to the theory circulating online that Prince Lance McClain, her Majesty's cousin, is involved in the matter? If so, is that why he hasn't been spotted outside of the palace for more than three weeks now? Answers are slow to come from the palace now that they've cracked down on information leaks, but there's sure to be more released in the coming weeks. Now we're back to Allison with the weather, for what looks like a gorgeous day in Altea._

  

* * *

 

Lance tiptoes his way around the corner, doing his best to keep from making any noise. He's only lived in the palace for a year now, but he spent a lot of time here growing up, visiting his cousin and attending royal parties or ceremonies or banquets when required. He knows most of the shortcuts, and a few of the hidden passages, and where he's least likely to be noticed sneaking out.

His shoes are silent on the tiled floors, and he sticks close to the walls, but he still feels like he's only seconds from being caught. Worse than palace security is if Shay, his bodyguard, notices he's missing. He'd asked her a little while ago to check up on Hunk, who was getting a movie set up in the theater room for their weekly movie session, and then sneakily followed her down the hallway, veering off towards one of the back exits that the kitchen staff uses.

Unfortunately that means that there's more people back here to notice him, but most of the staff are busy carrying dishes or piles of linens, and the ones that do notice him just cheerfully tip their head in acknowledgement. He's a fixture here, after a year, and well known among the kitchen and cleaning staff. Some of them, the more traditional ones, will murmur his full title when they nod, but some of them just say, "Good morning, Prince Lance! Anything you need?" It's simple to wave them off and sneak further and further out, until he's winding his way through the final  corridor towards the back entrance.

There's usually only one guard stationed back here, to check the staff before they come into the palace, but after the coup, with Allura and her intelligence committee not entirely certain all of the members of the conspiracy had been arrested, the security has been upped to three guards, and checks on who was entering the castle were more intensive.

He's hoping that they won't be paying too much attention to who's leaving.

Lance takes a deep breath, straightens his shoulders, and slips into line with a group of staff who are loading up boxes of cushions and rugs that are being sent out for cleaning, picking up a box with them. He'd donned the plain black and white uniform of the staff earlier, and keeps his head ducked low to the ground as he walks with the men and women carrying the rest of the furnishings.

"Jesse and I will drop these off, and we'll be back in about an hour. There should not be any other deliveries in that time, but Ruby will let you know if something comes up," Carlotta, the head of staff, says to one of the guards. Lance lowers his head even further -- she's been around the castle since he was a baby, and would probably give him up to the guards in a heartbeat if she spotted him. She'd been the one to approach Coran about possible rumors of a coup, and she was taking the entire thing very seriously. She'd been around enough royal children that she would have no problems dragging him back inside by the ear. She'd probably chastise him about the dangers of going outside right now, and then give him a cookie and send him on his way like she'd done when he was younger.

He needs to get out though. He needs to see Keith.

So he keeps his face lowered slightly, his gait confident. He makes amused noises when the person in front of him tells a joke, and sighs deeply along with the others when the line is held up as someone adjusts. He does his best to look like he belongs here, and when he steps, blinking, into the sunshine, hefting his box a little higher, the guards don't pay him any mind. They're watching idly as the boxes are loaded, Carlotta directing the staff even though they've done this probably dozens of times. Lance quickly shuffles his box into the van waiting to be loaded and then shimmies off to the side a little, milling behind the others as they stretch and discuss how to stack the boxes so that they all will be returned to the appropriate rooms. He kneels down, ostensibly fixing his shoe, and then moves swiftly around the side of the van and towards the gate that will lead him to the exit on the grounds.

There's less security out in the royal gardens, because it's a public area, so once he's beyond the view of the guards and the staff, he vaults over the small wall separating the path and the gardens. When he lands on the other side, he's in a small alcove where there's a bench and a lamp post next to a bush filled with purple blooms. He straightens, fixing his shirt, and quickly makes his way towards the exit of the gardens, skirting his way around children playing in the grass and couples strolling hand in hand.

When he hits the street, he starts whistling.

He's well familiar with the path to the coffee shop by now. Topped Off sits diagonally across the street from the Hall of Lions, which has only just returned to normal after their infiltration a few weeks ago. It still doesn't feel quite real, sneaking into a government building to rescue the boy he'd started falling for from the moment he saw him. He really still doesn't know how they even did it. Lance is pretty sure Pidge was contacted to help with reconfiguring the security for the building, even though their entry to the system had apparently been more smash and grab than finessed. Pidge had confessed that they'd gone for 'noticeable but effective' rather than the sneaky way they'd been planning, in order to get to Keith faster -- Lance honestly couldn't care. He's just glad Keith had gotten out of the night with only a headache and sore wrists.

He pushes open the door to the shop, taking in the familiar bell chime just as Keith glances up and notices him. The smile that spread across his face is involuntary, sweet and genuine -- the sight of it warms Lance's stomach like a banked fire, and he grins back, waving his hand a little. Keith tilts his head in acknowledgement, but doesn't stop tapping the register as he takes in a girl's order, nodding along with her instructions. Pidge is too caught up in their machines to notice him, but Nyma gives him a pleasant, if perhaps slightly sardonic, smile as she heads into the back room, carrying a few empty mugs.

Lance slips into line behind the girl and listens to her order. The shop is fairly empty, but there are still several people sitting at tables, and Lance wonders if any of them will notice him. The only other time he's come into the shop without a hat or sunglasses, he'd also been desperate to see Keith and hadn't cared about the rumors that might have followed him if anyone recognized him. It had been easy for their PR management to handwave unsubstantiated rumors, especially given how quickly Lance had left, but he'd been warned to avoid being seen together until they were ready to release information about Lance's new boyfriend.

But he's tired of waiting. He and Keith had only been able to talk through texts and skype for the last few weeks, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore the aching in his chest whenever he looked at him. After two weeks of seeing him every day, after finally getting to kiss him breathless, he doesn't want to settle for messages and video.

So he stands impatiently as Pidge fills the order, shifting from one foot to the other. He and Keith are staring at each other, silent, a nervously excited energy swelling between them. If they were alone, Lance would cross behind the counter in a heartbeat and kiss him hello, but he knows that's not possible -- maybe it's not even something Keith would like. There's still so much he has to learn about him.

As soon as the girl is leaving the shop with her order, Lance is up next to the counter, smiling. He feels almost shy seeing the smile on Keith's face, which is a strange feeling for him. He's faced diplomats, visiting royalty, _Allura_ in the early morning -- none of them compare to the twisting in his gut, looking at Keith.

"How did you get out?" Keith asks, leaning forward, voice low. His dark eyes are amused.

"Hello to you too, sweetheart," Lance says, planting his own elbows on the counter.

Keith makes an apologetic face, his cheeks going pink. "Hi," he says belatedly. "How did you get out?"

"I've got a few tricks up my sleeve," Lance says coyly. "I can't give them all away now though. Got to keep the mystery alive."

"Lance," Keith says wryly, "I don't think anything will top 'actual prince' on the list of your mysteries surrounding you since I've known you."

"That was barely a mystery," Lance says dismissively. "You're just bad at noticing things."

"Are you thirsty or can I stop listening to this?" Pidge asks. Lance startles, glancing at them. He'd forgotten they were there, but they're leaned against the other counter, arms folded, a single raised eyebrow challenging him.

"I'm fine," Lance says, waving a hand. "Keith can make me something if I need it."

Pidge snorts. "Keith can make tea and barely manages a decent latte. But fine, let me know if you change your mind." They pat Keith on the shoulder as they pass behind him, heading into the back. It's quiet for a moment, Keith fidgeting with the pen on the counter. He looks uncertain, which Lance isn't used to at all.

"I snuck out," he says abruptly. Keith looks up at him. "I pretended to be one of the cleaning staff, and I got out through the public gardens. I'm sure Shay and Hunk are blowing up my phone right now."

"It's movie day," Keith says pointedly. "You told me you were looking forward to it, because it was a nostalgia theme week."

"Jurassic Park will still be there when I go back," Lance says solemnly. "I wanted to see you." Keith's eyes widen a little, and he ducks his head, but not before Lance sees the smile tugging at his lips. "This is the part where you say _Me too, Lance,_ " Lance prompts him, although he's ridiculously charmed by Keith's awkwardness.

"Of course I wanted to see you," Keith says, rolling his eyes. Lance beams at him brightly, feeling almost giddy. "I also don't want you to be locked up in your room for weeks every time we _do_ get to see each other," Keith continues. "What if they decide I'm a bad influence on you?"

"First of all, we both know who the bad influence in this relationship is, and it's the person who thought breaking into a government building was a good idea," Lance says. "Which everyone who has control over me is well aware of. You're like, my impulse control, really."

Keith snorts. "Your impulse control would have stopped you from doing that, not gone along with it. Also, the idea of me being anyone's impulse control would literally make Shiro cry."

Lance laughs loudly and then glances around, worried someone has heard him. No one looks up at him, either wrapped up in their own conversations or glued to their phones, but he leans in closer and lowers his voice anyway. "Speaking of, what are the chances of me getting invited to your house ever again?"

"Pretty good," Keith says, shrugging. "He's basically watching me like a hawk when I'm not here in the shop, but as long as we're not planning a heist, I think he's cool with you. He just wants me to be happy, so keeping you away from me wouldn't be a good strategy."

The offhand way he says it smooths down Lance's spine like a hand, pleasant and comforting. Keith isn't great at affection -- he doesn't use pet names, not unless he's mocking Lance, and he doesn't often know how to respond to Lance's flirting, but he says things with such sincerity, without trying to say it to prove something to Lance or to impress him.

He's grown up with people trying to curry favor with him, to prove they care the most about him, insisting that they're fond of him for himself and not for his proximity to power and wealth. Keith doesn't even try to convince him -- Keith pushes him and argues with him and jokes with him, and Lance never once feels like Keith is seeing Lance's family or title. Keith just sees him.

"What about this Friday?" he asks. On the counter, he tiptoes his fingers across the surface, getting closer and closer to Keith's hand. Keith's fingers tap themselves casually in an offbeat rhythm, until Lance close enough to wind their fingers together. Keith's mouth curves at the edges. "I won't even ask to see you outside of your house, I'll go over and we can sit on the couch in front of your brother and be supervised the whole time."

Keith shudders but squeezes Lance's hand. "That sounds horrible."

"This is all part of my master plan," Lance says confidently.

"Which is?" Keith asks, tilting his head.

"If I'm going to convince Shiro to let me steal you away for a semester abroad next year, then I've got to be on his good side," Lance says.

"A semester abroad?" Keith asks slowly. "When did you--"

"I'm going to be going to France next spring, as part of an exchange program. It'll be partly a diplomacy thing, partly for my education. I'll kind of be doing an internship there, but I'd really like to take you too," Lance says, grinning. A thought occurs to him when Keith just continues to stare at him, and his smile fades quickly. "If you want, that is? Shit, I didn't even think to ask if you would be interested in--"

"Yeah," Keith says abruptly. The bridge of his nose is distractingly pink. "I mean, yes, of course. You said that, last time -- you were going to travel. I've never actually even been outside of Altea before," he admits. "I don't think I even have a passport."

"All the more reason for me to convince Shiro as soon as possible that I'm not going to be bad for you," Lance says, winking, trying not to show how relieved he is. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm charming as hell. I have faith in my abilities here."

Keith snorts, but it sounds fond. "Sure. I'll ask him about it."

"It's a date, then," Lance says, and then suddenly feels unsure about whether or not it's okay to say that. Keith had called him his boyfriend last time he was here, but they hadn't talked at all about what they wanted their relationship to look like. Keith was Lance's first boyfriend, and only the third person he'd ever really dated. He didn't think that a middle school relationship really counted, and his last girlfriend had been an awkward relationship where she'd been excited to date him up until she realized he was followed literally nonstop by either press or a bodyguard. Their dates had been stilted and he hadn't known what to do or how to act. He _still_ doesn't know.

His hand suddenly feels sweaty in Keith's grasp, but Keith just tightens his grip and replies, nonchalantly, "I'll cook something for you."

"Hey," Lance says, profoundly relieved but trying not to show it. "I've heard about your cooking skills. I thought you liked me."

"Fuck off," Keith says, but he laughs. "I can make some things. And I'm better than my brother. Besides, you can help me out."

"Sounds good," Lance says, grinning. Their eyes meet and hold; Keith is so _cute_ , with his long lashes and messy hair. Lance's tongue feels heavy in his mouth, which is good, because all he wants to do right now is let all of his feelings for Keith spill out. It's like he's been storing them up while they've been kept apart, and all he wants to do is say something ridiculous like, _You're so pretty and clever and I like your sarcasm and your wrinkled clothing and even the dark circles under your eyes, I like the way you know how to reassure me without even trying, I like that you don't know how to do this any more than I do, I like you I like you I like you._

He's just about decided to screw the rest of the people in the coffee shop and kiss Keith anyway, but there's a loud buzzing from Keith's pocket, and they both look down at it. Keith reaches with his free hand and pulls it out, and then sighs.

"It's Hunk," he says, smiling a little ruefully. "I think you're in trouble." He holds up the phone, and the display reads, _TELL LANCE HE HAS TEN MINUTES TO GET BACK HERE OR I'M TELLING ALLURA._

"I'm definitely in trouble," Lance says, wincing. "Should have known better. Hunk loves Jurassic Park."

"I'll talk to Shiro," Keith says. "So -- I'll see you on Friday?"

"Yes," Lance promises, even though he knows he's going to have to do some major begging in order to swing it. He's not above begging though, not when it means actually getting to date his boyfriend. "Friday. Sounds good. I guess I have to go now, though." He makes a face and then starts to pull away.

Keith's hand tightens on his and then he’s tugging him back across the counter, planting a kiss on the side of his cheek -- Lance turns his head in surprise at the last second, and it lands awkwardly on the corner of his mouth, which makes Keith laugh when he pulls away. Lance has the ridiculous urge to reach up and touch where Keith's lips had been.

"Have fun," Keith says, letting go, flushed pink. Lance falls back onto his feet from where he'd risen onto his toes. His face feels hot. "Tell Hunk and Shay I said hi."

"Okay," Lance says, staring at him. It takes him a moment to remember he has to turn around to leave. All he can think about is how much he wants to stay. "I'll call you," he says, and then finally starts heading for the door.

"Enjoy your dinosaurs," Keith calls, and then there's just the chiming of the door as it opens and closes behind Lance.

He makes it back to the palace in eight minutes, panting a little from running, and finds Hunk out front of the palace gardens, looking exasperated but amused.

"I'm gonna help you sneak back in," Hunk says. "Shay is already distracting the guards at the back, she's just waiting on a text from me."

"You guys are the best," Lance says honestly, clasping his hands together. "I don't deserve you. I owe you a hundred thousand favors. I love you both so--"

"Yeah, yeah," Hunk says, wrapping an arm around Lance's shoulders. "I've heard it before. What was all of that about, huh?"

Lance sighs, leaning against his best friend. They start winding their way through the garden, taking familiar paths that they'd traversed when they were younger and just visiting the palace together, or playing hide and seek among the statues and the topiary. They've walked here enough that they know which paths are more commonly traveled and which feel like secret places where only you've ever been.

"I just wanted to see him," Lance says. His voice sounds strange, almost hollow. "I know it's only been a couple of weeks, but I missed him."

Hunk is quiet for a moment, as they both duck under a low hanging tree branch and automatically make their way to the left of a statue of a particularly round and pleasant looking royal who'd died probably a hundred years ago. When he finally speaks, he still sounds exasperated and amused. "I don't exactly blame you, but you should have at least let us know, you know. Shay and I understand where you're coming from. We know how you feel about him."

Lance hunches his shoulders, sighing. "I know," he murmurs. "Something about him makes me -- I dunno, I just want to be around him all the time."

"You're ridiculous," Hunk says, shaking his head fondly. They make their way to the fence, where they peer over and see Shay smiling up at the guards and making them laugh. "Okay, I'll buzz her. Get ready to roll."

"Gotcha," Lance says. There's a beat of quiet, both of them watching Shay, and then Lance says, "By the way, I've got a date this Friday."

 _"Lance,_ " Hunk says, longsuffering, but Lance is already jumping the fence and hurrying to the back door, grinning.

 

* * *

  

_chrissy t. @christmasbelles: you guys, i swear this is like the third time i've heard someone say they thought they saw lance at this coffee shop on main? can someone confirm????_

_jellyfishing @plaxplease: my girlfriend works at that shop and she's told me it's just her coworker's boyfriend. they just look alike. let's not spread rumors, ok??_

_Chelsea McClain @lancefan101: it's probably just some guy named lance, like anyone could see THE prince and not know for sure it was him ❤_

  

* * *

 

He feels good about the whole thing up until the point that he's on Keith's doorstep. It had taken a _lot_ of haggling, first with Allura and then with Coran and _then_ with Shay, but one by one they'd relented. There are two armed guards stationed across the street, and Shay sitting in the car right outside, and Shiro has to stay in the house the entire time with them within earshot, but everything had finally come together. 

And now he's chickening out on the front porch.

"You are meant to knock on the door, Lance," Shay calls out from the car, demonstrating helpfully how to knock. He shoots her a dirty look and she smiles at him.

"I know that," he hisses back at her, turning around and throwing his arms wide. "I'm just -- do I look okay? My hair is okay? Shit, I need to change my shoes--"

"We actually leave our shoes at the front door, so it doesn't matter," Keith says, and Lance yelps. When he turns back around, Keith is leaning in the doorway with a smirk, arms crossed as he looks at Lance. Lance can hear Shay smothering laughter behind him, which he resolutely ignores.

"Hey," he says nervously. "Hi."

"Hey," Keith says. "Hi. Did you want to come in, or are we having this date out here?"

"You're teasing me," Lance says, trying to sound dignified, "But I absolutely think our next date should be outside. I was thinking about the gardens."

"You're already planning our next date?" Keith asks, blinking. Lance flushes red, closing his mouth. They stare at each other, but then Keith breaks into a smile after a moment and gestures for him to follow him inside. "See you, Shay!" he says, waving a hand at her. She gives him a thumbs up and then turns back to her phone. Lance is like, eighty percent sure she's bugged him and will be listening to the entire date, but he can't prove it.

Lance obligingly toes off his shoes next to where there are neatly lined pairs, Keith's slightly scuffed sneakers next to Shiro's tidy derby shoes. As he nudges them into place, Lance is suddenly overwhelmingly aware that his shoes probably cost more than all of the shoes in this house combined. He stares at his socked feet until Keith clears his throat and walks away towards the living room. Lance shakes his head and follows.

It looks exactly the same as it had when Lance was last here. Books are everywhere, scifi and history and harlequin and nonfiction, all of them piled on tables and bookshelves and the floor. There's family photos, a few on a mantel over a decorative fireplace, a few on the coffee table. Most of them are of Shiro and Keith, but there are a few that feature much younger brothers and a man and woman who must be their parents. The photograph of a young Keith in his soccer uniform is still on the wall; in it, Keith beams at the camera and flashes a peace sign.

"Shiro's in his room," Keith says, pointing down the hall. "Listening very closely. He told me to tell you that."

"Noted," Lance says, wincing. The last time he'd seen Shiro, he'd been pressing Keith against the wall while they kissed only a few days after he got Keith kidnapped, so he's not entirely surprised that Shiro is being overprotective.

"I, uh, have Netflix, or we can just find something to watch on tv, or do something else? We have a gaming console but we don't keep a lot of games because neither of us really has time for it. Shiro plays when he can't sleep, mostly."

"I think I can see what takes up most of your time," Lance says, lifting a book off of the couch to examine the cover. It's a book depicting artwork from Japanese Americans during the 1940s, with a scrap of receipt paper from a sandwich shop as the bookmark. He sits down, flipping through it curiously. "Is this one yours?"

"That was mom's, actually," Keith says, settling down onto the couch. "Shiro was looking through it the other night, I guess he left it out."

Lance's hands seem too clumsy all of a sudden, like he's holding porcelain instead of paper, and he puts the book carefully down on the coffee table, one corner at a time. "Oh," he says, feeling like he's intruded without meaning to. He puts his hands in his lap, not quite sure what to say.

It's quiet for maybe thirty seconds, before Keith leans in close to Lance, resting his head against his shoulder. Lance startles, the scent of warm vanilla flooding his nose. When he looks down, Keith is nonchalantly fiddling with the remote, but there's a determined look in his eyes that belies him. _He's nervous too_ , Lance realizes.

"What did you wanna watch?" Keith asks, flipping through genres faster than Lance can keep up.

"Um," Lance says, still looking down at where they're touching all along their sides. His arm is around Keith's back, his hand gingerly on the curve of his hip. He's never been this close to Keith before, except when they kissed, and he's admittedly a little distracted. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Hmm," Keith hums, not really responding. He ends up putting something on that promises to have a lot of banter and fast cars and probably a boringly predictable ending, and then settles closer to Lance, tucking his head more securely against his shoulder.

Lance's blood is buzzing in his veins at how close they are; he hadn't expected to get to be this close, and now he doesn't know what to do with his hands or what to say. For all that he's spent so much time talking to Keith the last month or so, they haven't been physically close very much at all, always separated by a counter or by a phone. Up until now, Lance hadn't known that Keith smelled of coffee creamer, that his hair was softer than its messiness suggested, that his head fit perfectly against Lance's shoulder.

"Stop thinking so loudly," Keith says. Lance looks at his face, where his eyes are still trained on the television but there's a smirk curling at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm not!" Lance protests, except it's obviously a lie. Keith drags his eyes away from the opening credits to look up at Lance, a single eyebrow raised. "Fine," Lance admits. "I wasn't -- expecting this. Being so close, I mean -- I'm not used to it with you. I'm kind of freaking out."

"In a bad way?" Keith asks, lifting his head up and frowning.

"No!" Lance says, maybe too loud. He tightens his grip on Keith, holding him close in case he tries to move away. "It's just different," he continues in a softer voice, relieved when Keith puts his head back down. "I kind of thought you wouldn't want to cuddle like this."

There's a long pause as they watch someone stare broodingly into the distance, music swelling behind him. Keith finally murmurs, "I miss you. When I don't see you, I mean."  Lance opens his mouth to say something, but Keith shifts against him, almost restlessly, like he's uncomfortable but intent on continuing. "I'm not -- I've never missed anyone like this before."

Oh. _Oh_. Lance's heart goes into overdrive, pounding so loudly in his chest that there's no way Keith can't hear it, pressed against him the way he is. "I miss you all of the time," he confesses. "I think about you constantly, even when I'm doing boring things, like what you'd think of my room or if you like sugary cereal or -- or how much I want to kiss you."

"I've seen your room when we skype," Keith says. "You've got posters of pop stars on the wall."

"Oh my god," Lance says, rolling his eyes.

"And I like all kinds of cereal," Keith continues. Lance can tell without seeing his face directly that he's grinning. In the background, several explosions start onscreen. Keith looks up at him, tilting his head towards Lance; his eyes flash wickedly in the orange and yellow glow from the television. "And there's nothing stopping you from kissing me now."

"Your brother is down the hallway," Lance says hesitantly, but his pulse picks up at the thought, at how close they are, at how warm and heavy Keith against him. All he would have to do is lean in just a little and he could kiss him again, only their second kiss ever. "He'll hear something."

"I picked a movie with explosions for a reason," Keith says, grinning, and then without warning leans in and kisses Lance himself. He puts a hand on Lance's other shoulder and pushes himself up so he can hover above Lance, practically straddling him. Lance hears himself make a noise deep in his throat, tilting his head to deepen the kiss immediately, caught up in the feeling of Keith, surrounding him. He tastes sort of sweet, like cola, and Lance chases that taste when Keith's hands find their way into his hair and hold him in place. Keith dominates the kiss, but Lance is more than willing to go along for the ride, only moving when Keith pulls back, red-cheeked and slightly breathless.

"See?" Keith says, murmuring. The explosions on the television are dying down, making Lance acutely aware of how shallowly he's breathing. He loosens his grip when Keith leans back and settles onto the couch again, both of them ruffled but smiling.

"Pretty sneaky," Lance says, once he's sure he can speak properly. Keith smirks at him and focuses on the movie again, curling up against him. "How many explosions are in this movie?" he asks, resting his head on top of Keith's.

"Like five more," Keith says. Lance laughs as softly as he can.

After the movie -- after many more quiet kisses -- they remember that Keith had promised to cook for him, so they make their way to the kitchen, where they fumble their way through grilled cheese sandwiches and binge on cookies pillaged from the coffee shop. Keith accidentally blackens one side of the first sandwich, but Lance eats it adamantly, ignoring the slightly burnt flavor. Keith rolls his eyes but shoots him a pleased grin, and they split a third sandwich that's absolutely perfect, golden brown and gooey. It's simple, just bread and butter and cheese, but it's one of the best meals Lance has ever eaten.

Shiro never emerges from his room, which relieves Lance greatly, but when ten o'clock rolls around, he gets a text from Shay that they'll have to leave soon to get back to the palace. He and Keith had been butchering a board game that was meant for more than two people, inventing their own set of rules, each of them competitive enough to cheat in order to try and win -- Lance only notices the text on his phone because he threatens to google the proper meaning of a word he's almost sure that Keith is twisting to mean something else.

"Shit," he says, deflating at the sight of the notification. "I've got to leave. It's getting late."

"Oh," Keith says, squinting at the clock on the wall. "You're right. Is Shay mad?"

"Nah," Lance says, reluctantly putting the board game back in its box. "She's fine, just wants me to be back before curfew."

"Okay," Keith says. They stand up from the floor, stretching out, gathering Lance's jacket, putting the game back where it belongs; prolonging the inevitable.  Lance puts his shoes on, knotting them twice while Keith hovers next to him, and then stands up and faces the front door, sighing.

"This was really fun," Lance says, which sounds trite but is completely true. He can't remember the last time he felt so _happy,_ even though they hadn't done anything special or unique. Being with Keith just -- felt _right._ It felt the same way stargazing felt, or how he felt when he'd realized that he could make a difference with his fame. It felt like realizing part of who he really was.

"Yeah?" Keith asks, smiling. "I guess you have a lot to live up to for the second date, huh?"

Lance blinks at him, and tilts his head when Keith just continues to smile. "Wait. Are you trying to make _this_ a competition?"

"Of course not," Keith says insincerely. "That wouldn't be fair at all."

"Wouldn't be fair?" Lance says indignantly. "I'm hella romantic dude. I'll smoke you."

"Sure," Keith says. "I look forward to it."

Lance narrows his eyes and points. "You, me -- next Friday. I'm going to take you on a date that will knock your socks off."

"Sounds great," Keith says innocently. He opens the door, where they can see Shay sitting in the car, still on her phone. She glances up at them, smiles and waves, and then looks down again. "I'll see you Friday then," Keith says, glancing at Lance from under his lashes. He's leaning against the door frame, hair still ruffled from their kissing earlier, eyes bright somehow in the darkness.

"I'll call you when I get home," Lance says, leaning in and kissing him gently. Keith doesn't even have time to close his eyes before Lance is pulling away, but he smiles, pleased, and bites his lower lip.

Keith watches him from the front door until he's in the car, and doesn't close it until they're pulling away. Lance locks eyes with him and watches even after Keith has gone inside, until Shay turns the street and he can't see the house anymore.

"Did you have fun?" Shay asks, even though she clearly knows the answer.

Lance leans his head against the seat, breathing in deeply. He closes his eyes and his mind fills with images of Keith immediately, snorting at the cheesy lines in the movie, cursing when he burned the sandwich, the way his breath had shuddered when Lance had kissed him goodbye.

"It was the best night of my life," Lance says honestly. It feels like there's something warm and fluttering in his chest, and he clings to that feeling all the way home.

 

* * *

 

_Here's some hot gossip -- Prince Lance was spotted returning very late last night to the palace, after almost four weeks of no sightings. Where was our favorite prince coming in from? He's been unusually quiet all summer, with only a few charity events and the coronation as chances for us fans to see him. Could his late night return signal something juicy going on in the prince's personal life? We'll keep an eye out for him and see!_

 

* * *

   

Friday dawns gray and cloudy, which isn't ideal at all. 

"Hunk," Lance says, staring out at the sky with frustration, "I need you to change the weather."

"And how should I do that?" Hunk asks, not looking up from the book he's reading.

"You're a science guy," Lance says petulantly, closing his blinds in a huff. "You can figure something out. I believe in you."

"I'm not sure that I can change the laws of physics in a morning, but for you, Lance, I'll try," Hunk says, turning a page idly. Shay laughs from where she's sitting on Hunk's other side, playing a game on her phone.

"It is not raining yet," Shay reminds Lance. "There is only a small chance for it. You should go on your date, and if anything happens, you are right next to the castle."

Lance exhales, then nods. "You're right. It's just a picnic. It's not like it has to be _perfect."_ Except that he wants it to be perfect.

"Absolutely," Hunk says. "You got this, buddy."

After coordinating with security, Lance heads down to the gardens, sneaking past the other people out there enjoying the overcast day, making his way to the biggest tree in the entire area, which is thankfully well off of the most-used paths. The branches are due for a trimming, hanging down low over the grass, casting dappled shadows across his skin. The wind whips the leaves back and forth a little, but it's a pleasant sensation as he sets his basket down and starts to set everything up.

A thick fluffy blanket goes down first, spread out over the entire area, red because he knows that's Keith's favorite color. He brought pillows along as well for them to sit on, because the ground is kind of bumpy over  the roots, and because it looks nicer. He opens the basket he'd filled with stuff from the kitchens and laughs. Someone, probably one of the cooks, has snuck a bouquet of pink and yellow roses into the basket. He takes it out and carefully scatters the flowers over the corners of the blankets, standing back and surveying everything with a critical eye.

His phone rings while he's adjusting a few flowers, and he grabs for it and thumbs it open to see Keith calling.

"Hello?" he says. "Are you here?"

"Yes," Keith says. He sounds distracted. "It's really gray out."

"It's fine," Lance says determinedly. "And anyways, I'm under a huge tree. Um, an oak I think? It’s enormous, even if it rains we'll be okay. Can you find me?"

"You gave me very specific instructions," Keith says, laughing a little. "I'll figure it out."

"Stay on the phone with me," Lance says. "Just in case."

"I can't decide if you doubt me or if you're trying to be cute," Keith says, huffing a little. Lance can hear the sound of children laughing in the background of the call, which means Keith is still in the open with everyone else. "Hey," Keith says, "Your instructions say to go left at the statue of King Alfor but that's just a bush."

"Yeah, jump it," Lance says. "It's the quickest way to get here."

"Sure, yeah, I'll just _jump the bush_ ," Keith says. "That's not weird."

"No one is looking at you," Lance says, using the tip of his finger to nudge another rose into place. "Although don't trip on the bush, our gardeners are super protective and would not appreciate it if my boyfriend ruined one of their plants."

"Maybe they'd appreciate _my_ boyfriend giving me better instructions," Keith mutters. Lance blows him a kiss through the phone, then looks up as footsteps near him. "Okay, I think I've--"

His voice cuts out as he ducks under the branches of the tree to come face to face with Lance. His eyes widen, taking in the blanket and the flowers and the basket, with Lance sitting sprawled on his side with the pillows. Lance has taken the liberty of tucking a rose behind his ear, where it's balanced precariously, threatening to fall out.

" _Et v_ _oila_ ," Lance says, gesturing grandly. "A romantic picnic in the park."

Keith continues to stare, and then snorts, breaking into laughter. Lance holds his pose, waiting, and Keith moves to his side, still chuckling, settling onto the blanket next to him. "There's petals in your hair," Keith says. His eyes are warm, crinkled at the edges as he looks at Lance. His hair is windblown, his cheeks faintly flushed. He looks like some kind of daydream, especially when he reaches out and tucks the rose more firmly behind Lance's ear.

"What do you think?" Lance asks, sitting up a little. "Romantic enough?" As if on cue, a bird trills nearby, and a gentle breeze wafts through the canopy of green. Keith leans back on his hands, taking in their surroundings critically.

"It's alright," he says finally, glancing at Lance. His grin belies his noncommittal tone. "Where are the bodyguards?"

"Do you mean Shay or do you mean the guards who are stationed throughout the garden in plains clothes?" Lance asks.

"Both," Keith says.

"Shay is actually around the corner, within earshot if I yell. She's supposed to be making sure no one comes to this part of the garden. I also have a panic button that will alert her if I need to." He pulls it out of his pocket and flashes it at Keith. "The guards are no big deal, I grew up with them and they're all cool. They usually only watch me when I'm out of the country or at a big event, but they've been hanging around closer after all the coup stuff."

"Good," Keith says. "Just wanted to make sure no one was watching us through binoculars before I did this."

He leans in and kisses Lance, pressing softly at first but then harder. Lance wobbles a little on his elbow, unbalanced but then grabs hold of Keith's neck with his other hand to press closer. Keith tastes like tea today, something spicy and fragrant; his mouth is a hot brand that lights up the nerves along Lance's spine, prompting him to make a soft noise in the back of his throat.

Keith pulls away, flushed. "I thought we should get that out of the way," he says, leaning back onto his side.

"What, instead of waiting until the end of the date?" Lance asks, feeling sort of pleasantly buzzed. His mouth feels warm and he's sorely tempted to roll over and pin Keith to the blanket and keep kissing him, but that wouldn't really be a date, and he's determined to give Keith a good one.

"Exactly," Keith says. His hand reaches out again and pulls a petal out of Lance's hair, which he flicks to the side.

"Dessert before the meal," Lance says, shaking his head. "I should have known you were that kind of guy."

"Speaking of," Keith says. "Please tell me there's something in that basket other than flowers and pillows."

"There's a lot," Lance admits, sitting up. "I think the cooks kind of went overboard when I told them it was for a date." He reaches into the basket and pulls out four different kinds of sandwiches, a fruit platter, a cracker spread, and an enormous package of adorably tiny treats, cookies and brownies and little cupcakes. "I helped with the sandwiches," Lance says, "But they wouldn't let me do the rest. They said I needed to impress you."

"Well consider me impressed," Keith says amusedly.

They're digging through the food, trying to decide what to eat, when there's a loud clap of thunder, and then a brief stillness in which their eyes meet. They both blink once, and then there's a torrential downpour, the clouds opening up and spilling heavy rain. Luckily for them, the tree they're under is thick enough that only a few splatters of rain fall through, and it's easy enough to pull the blanket away from the edges of the canopy and crowd close to Keith. There are shrieks from the other people in the gardens as they hurry to cover, which makes Keith laugh a little.

"Delighting in other's misery?" Lance asks, nudging him.

"I love the rain," Keith says, still grinning. "It wouldn't be miserable to be out in it."

"I love the rain too," Lance admits. "Usually I prefer enjoying it from indoors, but it's always nice to hear a thunderstorm rolling through."

"When I was younger," Keith starts to say, but Lance doesn't get a chance to find out what happened when Keith was younger, because there are suddenly pounding footsteps as someone runs towards them. Lance only has time to grab hold of Keith's hand, ready to pull him to safety, before someone is ducking under the branches of the tree, dripping wet and gasping for breath. They're followed by three other people, who huddle closer together, wiping their eyes and glasses before they look around and lock eyes with Keith and Lance.

"Your Highness!" one of them gasps, a taller woman with pink hair. The others jolt a little, straightening and then peering curiously at the two of them, laying pressed close together under a tree with roses scattered all around them. Lance feels his stomach twisting in shock, and his grip tightens on Keith's arm reflexively.

"We're so sorry," one of the other people says, pushing damp hair out of his face. "We didn't know anyone was here."

"Especially not the prince," another person chimes in from the back.

"Um," Lance says, unsure what to say.

"Are you -- are you on a date?" the pink haired girl asks, squinting at Keith. "Hey, don't I know you from somewhere--" Keith stiffens next to Lance, eyes widening.

"Excuse me," a pleasant voice interrupts. "We ask that you vacate the gardens during the inclement weather." It's Shay, standing with an umbrella behind the other people. She's flanked by Lance's guards, who look upon the soggy group with professional detachment that's belied by the fact that they're all clearly on edge.  Shay's smiling politely, but her tone allows no room for argument. "Please follow one of these gentlemen. We will provide you with an umbrella on your way out." She gestures to the guards, bearing their own black umbrellas. The four strangers shoot Keith and Lance one last look, clearly curious, but Shay edges her way between them and Lance, still smiling.

They make their way back out into the downpour, and Lance finally lets go of Keith with a sigh.

"Sorry," he mutters, but Keith shakes his head. When Lance glances at him, he's frowning a little. "Are you okay?"

"I just -- that girl with the pink hair, she's a regular. Her name is Andrea. She comes in every other day and gets a scone and a cappuccino."

"So there's no way she won't know that it's you?" Lance asks. Shit. This is not how he wanted any of this to go. The rain is starting to seep through the leaves and branches now, dampening the two of them. Shay reaches out and hands him an umbrella, which he pops open.

"She'll probably figure it out before too long," Keith says. "Is that -- that's bad, right? Your people wanted to do some kind of special thing--"

"It's fine," Lance says, even though he doesn't know that. "This was my idea, it's not a big deal, who knows if those guys will even--"

"It is already showing up as a rumor on twitter," Shay says, looking at her phone. Lance makes a frustrated noise, while Keith looks resigned. "We should probably head inside before paparazzi come to try and get a glimpse."

They gather everything up, their uneaten food and the soggy blanket and the wet pillows, and follow Shay and the rest of the guards back to the palace. Keith looks slightly overwhelmed with all of the extra attention, not speaking as the picnic items are taken out of their hands and to the laundry, silently observing. He lingers close to Lance but doesn't touch him. Lance wants to reach out and grab his hand, but he's not sure if Keith would appreciate that while they're so close to so many strangers.

A call is put in to the royal publicist, and Keith and Lance eat a fresh lunch in the kitchen surrounded by sympathetic staff, who fuss over them and then quickly return to their chores, hurrying in and out of the room in droves. Keith keeps looking around at everything with the slightest furrow in his brow; the giant stove and the huge fireplace, the half dozen fridges and freezers all gleam brightly inside a kitchen easily three times the one at Keith's house.

Lance's chest aches a little at the hesitant expression on his face, at how quickly everything has changed from good to awful. It's the first time Keith's been in Lance's home, and it's not going how he wanted it to at all.

"Hey," he says quietly, nudging Keith with his foot. Keith's eyes fall back on him and he stares, before raising an eyebrow and kicking back. It's ridiculous how much that one motion eases Lance's nerves. "Footsie? Really?" He nudges again, trying to trap Keith's foot. Keith swiftly dodges and swings at him again.

"You started it," Keith says calmly but with a glint in his eye. Lance makes a mental note that Keith's competitive nature is in full effect even when uncomfortable, and redoubles his efforts to grab Keith's foot with his own.

They're interrupted from their tussle, during which Lance accidentally kicks himself and makes Keith almost cry with laughter, by Shay coming into the kitchen on her phone, nodding.

"Yes," she says, as the two of them quiet instantly and look at her. "Of course. Yes. Here he is."

She holds the phone out to Lance, who takes it and puts it to his ear, trying to look confident. Keith is back to watching silently, feet tucked back under himself.

"Hello?" Lance says, gripping the phone tightly. "This is Lance."

"Lance? Luxia." His shoulders relax slightly. Luxia is the PR adviser he's most used to dealing with, and she's had a soft spot for him ever since he spilled jam onto a visiting prime minister when he was ten and made one of the cutest gaffs in Altean history. Hopefully this won't be too bad. "I heard you had a spectacularly awful second date."

"Could have been better," he says lightly. "How bad is it?"

"Not too bad," Luxia says, sighing. "It was only a few people, although one of them does have about ten thousand twitter followers. It's going to spread. That in conjunction with your sightings in the shop and rumors already swirling after the coup mean that people are going to find out who Keith is, which means the press is going to find out who he is."

Lance looks up at Keith, who stares back at him. His gut is twisting anxiously, because he'd known this was going to happen, but he hadn't really thought about what it would look like. He kind of wishes he could fold Keith into his arms and shield him from everything and everyone right now, even Shay. Logically he knows that he made it clear upfront about what dating him would be like, about the difficulties his heritage would bring, but it was different to abstractly think about dealing with fans and press and paparazzi and actually having to hide from them constantly, always prepared for them to drop a scoop on some lurid detail in your past.

"What's our plan, then?" Lance says, resigned. "I'm assuming we can't just keep quiet."

"I'm not recommending that," Luxia agrees. "Rumors are worse than whatever we can put out at this point. I don't want people selling stories about Keith tricking you into dating him, or needing money for college or the coffee shop, or something trashy like that. I've got a source at one of the local magazines who owes me a favor. We'll put a bit of quick polish on our press release and put it out early, and I think you two need to be seen in public for a dinner."

"Dinner?" Lance echoes. "Wait -- are you sure?"

"Absolutely," Luxia says firmly. "The press will have to maintain distance because you'll be inside in a private business, Shay will be there, we can have plenty of guards watching you, and this way people will be able to see you're in a committed relationship that you don't mind being in the public eye."

"Won't that be -- too much?" he asks.

"You can handle it, Mr. Diplomat," Luxia says teasingly. "I'm not asking for you guys to do anything weird. Just go out to dinner, let the paps snap a few pictures, and we'll handle the rest. Hopefully once the intrigue has passed you guys will be able to have a more normal courtship."

"Luxia, courtship is really old fashioned," Lance tells her.

"So are picnics under a tree in a garden," Luxia responds blithely. "Anyways, I'll coordinate with Shay on when and where you guys will be seen. I've emailed some more forms to Keith about the press release, and I'll need his brother to look over them as well, even though Keith isn't technically a minor. You have my number for any other questions, dear. Talk to you soon."

"Goodbye, Lux," Lance says, handing the phone back to Shay when she hangs up. "So," he says bracingly, "There's good news and bad news."

"Is there?" Keith asks dubiously. "Because your face really only implies bad news."

"The good news," Lance says determinedly, "Is that they'll be able to get ahead of the rumors and hopefully nothing weird will come out of those people seeing us."

"The bad news?" Shay asks.

"We have to go to dinner," Lance says to Keith, who blinks.

"That's bad news?" he asks.

"It is when we'll be walking in front of the firing squad of paparazzi," Lance says. "Although Lux seems to think everything will be handled. But it will essentially be us on display as a couple, which will make the rounds with the press release for a week or so, and then hopefully we'll fade out of the news for a while."

"That is not so bad," Shay says, trying to be cheerful. "We have done staged public outings before. Maybe not for a romantic partner, but still."

"Right," Lance says, trying to sound cheerful. "How much different can it be from just going out for dinner with visiting dignitaries? I've done that dozens of times."

"Okay," Keith says slowly, looking vaguely confused. "I mean -- I guess? I don't think that would be that bad."

"Right," Lance says. "It'll be easy. Just a few pictures and we'll be fine."

 

* * *

 

 **_Breaking news! Prince Lance McClain has a new beau!_ ** _Although there have been rumors in the past, our favorite prince has never been openly romantically attached to anyone before, but things have changed, according to a press release from the palace itself. New boyfriend Keith Kogane is an Altean local who's headed to college in the fall, and currently works at a local shop where they met at the beginning of summer, indicating to some a whirlwind romance! A charming anecdote from the prince himself was included in the release, detailing their first meeting:_  

_"He actually didn't recognize me," the prince said, laughing. "He treated me like any other person, which was nice."_

_The palace representatives have indicated that they are not accepting questions about a private citizen at this time, and ask that the prince's and Mr. Kogane's personal privacy be respected. They were recently spotted together on a romantic picnic in the palace gardens, which may be what prompted this press release in the first place. In a direct message to the twitter user, MarciaP, who claims to have been one of the first people to stumble in on the lovebirds, told Altea Celebrity that, "They were very cute together, it looked like a really romantic date. There were even roses and stuff. We're sorry to have intruded on them though, and wish them the best."_

_Let's all wish the happy couple the best, and root for one of Altea's most cherished celebrities._

 

* * *

 

The restaurant is ridiculously fancy, with high ceilings and glittering chandeliers and multiple courses. It's the kind of restaurant Lance only remembers coming to when they were hosting people from out of the country, or when Alfor wanted to treat the family to a nice meal in the public eye. It's a staple restaurant for the palace, though, which means that the chef, manager, and owner are all well aware of what Luxia wants out of this dinner, and are more than willing to help accommodate her. 

Keith is quieter than usual when they pick him up, standing with Shiro on his front porch. Shiro says something quietly to Keith, who nods his head, and then rolls his eyes as Shiro carefully fixes his hair before nudging him off the porch and towards the car. Lance knows that Shiro can't see him through the tinted glass of the car, but he still feels the same queasy guilt churning in his gut when Shiro looks in his direction; part of him is waiting for Shiro to change his mind and say that Keith can't see Lance ever again, that this is too much, that Keith doesn't deserve to have to deal with everything that comes with Lance, all his baggage and drama. Part of him wouldn't blame Shiro for it.

Keith is dressed in a suit that Luxia had sent to his house, a dark gray that brings out the bluish hue to his eyes. It's the first time Lance has seen him in something that isn't jeans and a t-shirt, and he's grateful that the dim interior of the car means Shay can't see his flushed face when Keith opens the door and raises an eyebrow. He wordlessly gets in the car next to Lance, nodding his head at Shay. Lance can't tear his eyes away from the long line of Keith's legs, or how the suit jacket hugs his shoulders, or how his tie is already a little crooked again. He really wants to reach out and fix it, and then use it to tug Keith in and kiss him. He really wants to tell Shay _screw this_ and stay at Keith's house, or even go to the palace, so they can just be alone together for a while instead of paraded around to sell a story that shouldn't be anyone's business but their own.

That's not possible, though, so he just sits silently and tries not to stare at Keith.

Two of Lance's personal guards are taking them to the dinner in one of the palace vehicles, which has the potential to be an awkward and terrifying ride, but then Jeremy makes a comment about Keith's soccer team from high school, which prompts Mica to tell a joke about balls that makes Shay shoot her a quelling look. Lance was prepared to deal with a quiet and sober ride, but he wasn't prepared for Keith to light up and give one of his guards tips to take back to his daughter on how to properly score with a soccer ball. Overall it goes -- really well, and Keith seems much more relaxed by the time they pull up to the restaurant, even laughing a little at another joke.

Expectedly, there's already a horde of paparazzi and journalists there, cameras raised and phones held out, looking eagerly towards the car. Lance's other guards have already left their vehicles and crowd around the car door, which opens and lets Shay out first. She hovers protectively in front of the door, looking down at Lance.

"Ready?" she asks, sounding slightly amused.

"As always," Lance says. He looks back at Keith, whose eyes are locked on the flashing bulbs and growing noise that the press are generating. There's a line of tension in his straight back, in the way his mouth is pursed. There's no hint of laughter in his face anymore.

Lance reaches a hand out and touches Keith's. "If you don't want to do this," he says quietly, "I'll tell them to take us home. We don't have to. I promise, it's not going to hurt anything, and I'll take any heat. I don't want to do it if you don't."

Keith looks at him for a long time; he almost looks like a stranger, with his uncertain eyes and neatly combed hair, in his tailored suit with subtle pinstripes. Lance waits patiently, until Keith takes a slow breath and turns his wrist so their fingers interlock.

"I'm ready," Keith says. Lance swallows and makes his way out of the car, holding onto Keith, who follows after him. There's a surge of noise as soon as he appears, and the cameras start flashing at twice the speed, but he doesn't make eye contact. Shay walks alongside him, and then there's a wall of guards on either side of them, ushering them towards the door.

"Your highness!" someone shouts, "Tell us more about your boyfriend!"

"Tell us more about how you met!"

"Care to comment on the date that was interrupted in the park?"

"Keith! Keith, look this way!" Keith's head automatically starts to turn, but Lance tugs a little on his hand.

"Don't acknowledge them," Lance says out of the corner of his mouth, bending close to Keith's ear. "It'll only encourage them. They just want to take some pictures and if they're lucky get a soundbite, but we're not giving anything today."

"Fine with me," Keith says, tightening his hand around Lance's. "Ignoring people is my specialty."

Lance laughs, a knot in his stomach loosening. "You'll be a natural."

Inside, there's a host of people from the restaurant ready to guide them to their table, barely blinking at the coterie of people surrounding them, or the still blinding lights from the cameras outside. One of the staff firmly closes the door behind them, and then it's blessedly quiet. The restaurant staff are consummate professionals, used to people much more important than Lance dining with them, and it's a relief to have them unbothered by the crowd or the way Shay is keeping deliberately in front of them as they walk through the restaurant.

There's only a few other patrons in the restaurant, people Lance knows by name because it's expected that he would, politicians and wealthy people enjoying a meal at the end of the day. They glance curiously in their direction but don't stare, gazes flicking back to their food or partners. They're too used to seeing other wealthy and powerful people to care about a prince who's not even in immediate line of succession.

"Your Highness," the maître d' says, gesturing to a table decked out with a small flickering candle and white linens. He pulls out Lance's seat first, then Keith's, gently pushing them up to the table. His face is implacably professional. "Seating for your staff will be provided nearby," he adds. "In the meantime, what can I start you with to drink?"

They both order waters, and then they're left alone for the first time since they've been together this evening. Shay and the other guards are nearby at a table, getting seated within distance of Lance that still allows for some privacy.

Keith is looking around the restaurant with ill-disguised discomfort, sitting stiffly in his suit with his hands folded on the table.

"I'm sorry," Lance blurts, drawing Keith's attention back to him. "For all of this. It's too much, the press and the restaurant and the guards, I'm such an idiot, we shouldn't have come--"

"Lance," Keith says, tilting his head. "Chill out."

Lance blinks once, then twice. "What?"

"I mean, yeah, I'm kind of uncomfortable. I feel like if I touch the wrong thing I'm going to have to mortgage our house to pay for it, and there were -- there were a lot more people out there than I expected to care about this, but it's not too much." Keith leans back in his chair, smiling faintly. "I'm not gonna get scared off by something like this."

Lance narrows his eyes at him. "You're not just saying this?"

"Lance," Keith says patiently, "Have I ever not spoken my mind to you?"

"True," Lance says reluctantly. "Sometimes I think you share too much."

"You asked what I was doing," Keith says, looking amused. "I was just being honest."

"You didn't have to snapchat me from the toilet, Keith," Lance says, and feels the band of tension holding him release. He leans back in his chair, mirroring Keith. "Okay. But if you need to leave just let me know, okay?"

"I'll keep you informed," Keith says. "In the meantime, this menu is in French. I don't know if you knew that."

"I hadn't noticed," Lance says, although he's been here several times and was well aware. He shows off a bit, discussing the menu with the waiter at length in French; Keith does his best to not look impressed, but Lance sees him biting his lip to keep from smiling. Lance orders for the both of them with Keith's blessing, and the food is delicious when it arrives, perfectly tiny portions and extravagant dishware. Keith eats everything without bothering to ask what it is, and seems to enjoy most of it, although he does make a face at some of the richer food.

By the time the check comes, they're both comfortable enough that they're laughing openly at a joke Lance made, ignoring the mildly annoyed stares the other guests give them. Shay has been a quiet but constant presence in the background, but now she rises and comes to the table, smiling at the two of them.

"The crowd has thinned a bit, but there are still a few people out there. Are you both ready?"

Keith rolls his head a little, like he's psyching himself up for a fight. Lance looks at him questioningly, and he nods, brow furrowed. Lance looks to Shay and says, "We're ready."

The flashes start up as soon as they step outside, as if they'd never really stopped. The shouting begins seconds after, and Lance gropes blindly for Keith's hand, finds it already waiting. Keith sticks close to his side but doesn't seem nearly as overwhelmed this time, keeping his head raised high and his gaze pinned to the car. Lance feels something feathery and soft beating in his chest, a sort of hope he hadn't realized he'd been afraid to feel.

The inside of the car doesn't muffle the shouts nearly as well as the restaurant had, but it's better. Shay signals to Mica, who's driving, and they pull away smoothly, and then it's quiet again, nothing but the hum of the engine and the crunch of the road under the tires.

"Piece of cake," Keith says. He smiles out of the corner of his mouth at Lance.

"You're amazing," Lance says honestly. It makes Keith falter a little, and then turn red. "Really," Lance insists. "I'm not -- you're better than amazing."

"I had dinner with you," Keith says, laughing but avoiding Lance's eyes. It's just like him to be embarrassed at honest praise but indifferent to all of the teasing Lance does. "It wasn't exactly groundbreaking stuff."

"You can keep acting all blasé and relaxed, but you're talking to someone who's grown up going through that," Lance says. He takes their linked hands and raises them to his mouth, kissing Keith's knuckles softly. "Thank you."

Keith blinks at him, still pink across the bridge of his nose. "Of course," he mutters, looking embarrassed.

"Luxia texted me," Shay says. "The initial pictures coming through on gossip sites look very good. Lots of good media exposure, and everyone is running the statement they put out. There are a few people who think it looks like a stunt to try and distract from the coup, but they are being ignored for the most part."

"Success," Lance says, leaning his head back in the seat with a sigh of relief. "Now we just lay low for a bit until we're last week's story."

"Back to skype and texts?" Keith says, sounding carefully neutral. When Lance looks at him, though, his mouth is somewhat sulky.

"Not for long," Lance says, rubbing his thumb over Keith's knuckles. "I'll ask Allura if we can meet up somewhere, or if you can come to the castle. She's been wanting to meet you properly anyways."

"That's not terrifying," Keith says wryly. "But okay, we'll play it safe for now."

"Somehow I think the both of you will survive," Shay tells them. "Here we are,"she adds, as they pull up to the curb outside of Keith's house. "You can take a minute to say goodnight, we can cover for you."

The crickets are chirping in full force when they step outside of the car. Keith loosens his tie, sighing, as they walk towards the front porch. The light is on outside the door, and they can see a flickering light through the windows that means that Shiro is probably waiting up for Keith.

"I didn't know you could speak French," Keith says suddenly. "When did you learn that?"

"I can speak several languages," Lance says modestly. "I'm best at Spanish, obviously, because of my father, but all of my siblings learned French and Portuguese just because the tutor we had when we were growing up knew them. I taught myself German when I decided I wanted to go into diplomacy. I'm trying to learn Mandarin? But it's really difficult to teach yourself, it turns out. I just don't have room in my courses for a language right now, though, but I'm trying to get Allura to -- what?" he asks defensively, because Keith has started grinning.

"Nothing," Keith says. "I just -- I'm glad I went tonight."

Lance's blood fizzles happily in his veins, like fireworks shooting off at midnight. He doesn't know what to do, except that he knows what he wants to do. He wants to kiss Keith for hours, wants to curl up around him and listen to him talk until they grow tired of it and kiss again, wants to press his fingertips to the pink of his cheeks. "I'm glad you did too," he says instead.

"Next time I get to pick what we do," Keith says jokingly. He reaches out and straightens Lance's tie; something about this amuses Lance, since Keith's tie is flopping unceremoniously around his neck by now.

"Fair enough," Lance says. "I suppose I have to say goodnight to you now." The lights in the living room have stopped flickering, which means Shiro has paused what he's watching to listen. He catches Keith's hands in his own and squeezes them tightly. "Goodnight."

"You should say it to me in all the languages you know," Keith says. "For good measure." He tilts his head up expectantly.

Lance licks his lips, keenly aware of the presence of all of the people around them -- but even more aware of the heat in Keith's eyes, in the smirk playing around the edges of his mouth. A challenge cannot go unanswered.

" _Au revoir,_ " he murmurs. " _Adiós. Tchau, auf wiedersehen, zài jiàn._ That's all I have for now but I'm going to learn a dozen more."

"Why?" Keith asks. They're only a breath apart. Lance can smell mint and something spicy, can feel the heat coming off of Keith's skin.

"A longer goodbye," Lance says. "I'll tell you goodbye in every language in the world, until by the time I'm finished it's our next date."

"That seems ambitious," Keith says. "But I like it. Do you need incentive?"

"Absolutely," Lance says, except he only gets half of the word out before Keith is kissing him. For all that he's kissed Keith a dozen times by now, it still overwhelms him, still cuts the breath short in his lungs, still leaves him hungry for the next one. Keith kisses like he's trying to press himself into Lance's skin, like every touch of his mouth against Lance's is a brand. They continue, clinging to each other, until a soft honking noise makes them jolt, pulling apart. Lance glances behind himself at the car to see Shay leaning between the seats with her palm on the steering wheel, the guard in the driver's seat facing forward with shaking shoulders. She taps her watch meaningfully, and Lance sighs.

"I'll call you," he says. Keith nods his head, rubbing absently at his lower lip with a thumb. It's red, darker than the blush on Keith's face. Lance has to physically step back to stop himself from kissing him again.

"Goodnight," he says again. Keith waves a little at him, and stands outside with his fingertips against his mouth as Lance crawls into the car, stands outside until the car is pulling away. Lance watches him until they turn the corner and then closes his eyes, exhaling.

Up front, one of the guards whistles softly. Lance laughs, and it's easier than he ever imagined.

 

* * *

 

 _Altea Post Weekly @alteapost: Prince Lance enjoys night out with his new boyfriend at La Grenouille bit.ly/334832_  

_sunshine bi @stabbybird: they look so sweet, i hope they had a good time! can't believe the prince took him there for their first date_

_Samantha Smith @sammysmith: his boyfriend looks totally overwhelmed lmao_

_lancepants @lancepants: awwww i can't believe it's really true!!! lance is off the market :( and with a guy :(((((((_

_sun and moon @moonclover: grow up please_

 

* * *

 

"You know," Allura says, leaning back in her chair, "You can invite Keith to the palace. It's all out in the open now, it wouldn't be untoward." 

Lance looks up from the book he's been reading -- it's a fantasy book Keith had recommended, too engrossing to put down even though he has actual paperwork he needs to be reviewing. He's sprawled across the couch in Allura's personal office, feet tucked up next to him on the well-worn leather. Only a few people are allowed into this office, which makes it the perfect hiding place when you're trying to keep from being dragged into yet another meeting about public appearance and statistics of social media circulation.

"We're supposed to be staying out of headlines," Lance says absently. "I'm pretty sure there are reporters staking out the palace around the clock, trying to corner me or palace staff into an interview. The only reason that people aren't harassing Keith at work or home is because Pidge redacted his personal info from basically the entire internet."

"Keith is a private citizen, and will continue to be treated as such, even by institutions as depraved as the press," Allura says, with just a hint of distaste in her tone. There had been plenty of articles about whether or not Allura was ready to lead done almost immediately after her father's death, and it had left her frosty towards the media, although she was only professionally polite in public. There had also been dozens of articles speculating about her role in the coup, as well as what it meant that something like that had been building in reaction to her imminent rule. She had held her head high through it all, and not all of the press had been negative, but it had left a bad taste in everyone's mouth in the palace.

Allura weathered everything with the same unruffled grace that she's always held. Lance doesn't know how she's grown up the way she has, knowing that her destiny was a throne that would be as unforgiving as it would be heavy. Her entire life has been documented from the day she was born, her first steps all the way to current day decisions she's making, whether it's a hairstyle or which country she'll be working with on trade agreements.

It's on a totally different level, even from what he goes through. Lance is a prince, but he's not a very important prince -- he has three older siblings ahead of him in succession, to say the least who comes before them, including his mother. Lance is a popular figure in the monarchy because he'd willingly stepped into the public eye, because he'd used his charm and his fame to draw attention to charities, to public servants who reached out to him, because he never shied from meeting with people who claimed to be his fans. His brothers and sisters were known, but they were well-removed from the public eye because it had never been their dreams to be in it. It had been all Lance had ever wanted -- to make a difference in the world, to use his voice for change. He wanted to travel, to see new places and meet new people, to learn all that he could.

He'd grown up dealing with the press, but it had always been only his reputation and privacy on the line. The thought of Keith having to go through any more than he has to, of his home or his brother's shop being jeopardized because of who Lance was, makes his stomach curdle. He'd rather quarantine himself for a month than risk any of that.

"It's just a couple of weeks," Lance says firmly, readjusting his hold on the book. "We can get by for a couple of weeks with just phones."

"You miss him, though," Allura says quietly. "You've been moping around the palace for days."

He looks over at her, and she's smiling at him, chin propped in her hands. She looks fond, which is one of her two default expressions when it comes to Lance; the other is exasperation. He stares at her, and is suddenly overwhelmed with how lucky he is to be related to someone as kind and empathetic as Allura -- not everyone would let someone like Lance stay in their home after they'd pulled the incredibly stupid stunt of breaking into a government building, not to mention stirring gossip news sites up over a new relationship only a month after said government break in. Allura had always held the kind of balance that Lance coveted, empathetic to others but headstrong when needed. It was what made her a good cousin, and what made her an incredible queen.

"I'm not moping," Lance says defensively.

"Pining, then," Allura suggests.

"That also sounds bad," Lance mutters. Allura snorts out an inelegant laugh. "Fine, yes, I miss him," Lance says, setting his book down in his lap and sighing. "And I know how that sounds -- it feels so stupid because I didn't even know him at the beginning of summer, I shouldn't need to be around someone I've only known a couple of months all the time, but I just -- I miss him." His voice goes soft and he closes his eyes. "Every time I think about what I want most, he's there."

There's a long pause, stretching out between them until Lance opens his eyes to look at her. She's staring at him thoughtfully, head tilted slightly, something calculating in her eyes.

"What?"he asks, blinking.

"Lance," she says slowly, "Are you in love with him?"

Lance's heart constricts in his chest, an ache that chokes him momentarily and leaves him staring at her, open-mouthed. She continues to watch him with curious eyes while his mouth opens and closes uselessly.

"Love?" he finally says weakly. "Allura, it's way too soon for me to--"

"Is it?" Allura asks. "My father and mother fell in love at first sight, or so they used to tell me. I imagine it took just a bit longer. Father used to tell me stories about seeing his life play out in her eyes. He used to say that he would look at her, and see his future. That sounds an awful lot like what you just said."

Lance doesn't know what to say to that. Love? Was he in love with Keith? Could you be in love with someone so quickly?  Everyone knew about the whirlwind romance of the previous king and queen, how they'd met at a ball and been married only two months later. There had been gossip and scandalized columns written for months afterwards, but they'd been together for thirty years before the queen had passed of illness, and had been obviously smitten with each other the entire time. Lance had found the story romantic growing up, but it had always seemed more like a fairy tale than something that happened in real life.

He chews on his lower lip and then glances furtively at Allura. "How did they know?" he asks. "That it was real love?"

"Well," Allura says slowly, "Father told me that when he started thinking about what his plans were, they began to include her without him even thinking about it. He sent her letters every day, telling her what he was thinking of, and received twice as many in return. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle." Her eyes soften, that familiar look of exasperated fondness that he's so used to. "But I think, Lance, that really they just knew. They didn't have to think about it."

Lance pictures Keith in his mind, thinks of his hesitant smile and his windswept hair and his dark eyes, and comes to a conclusion startlingly quickly. "Oh shit," he says breathlessly.

"That's adorable," Allura says, grinning. "Well, that was a refreshing break. Better get back to work." She starts tapping at her computer unconvincingly, while Lance buries his face in his hands and groans.  She laughs a little, and the typing stops. "Oh Lance, really. It's not that awful, is it?"

"It's not awful at all," Lance mumbles. He takes a deep breath and uncovers his face, tilting his head up to face the ceiling. "I mean, it's like -- you know what it feels like when you're riding a rollercoaster, and you crest a hill and at the top you're almost floating, like you're flying, but your stomach drops and you kind of feel sick with giddiness?" Allura makes an affirmative noise. "It's like that but all the time," Lance says, sighing.

"Sounds invigorating," Allura says dryly.

"Allura, we just started dating," Lance says. "We've only had one public appearance and he handled it really well but what if it gets worse? You know what it's like, and he hasn't grown up with it like we have. What if he decides he doesn't want to try anymore?"

"Lance," Allura says patiently. "Nothing has changed. You're in love, just like you were ten minutes ago. It's just that now you know it. Keith will make his own decisions, and you'll make yours, but you shouldn't try to make them for him. If he says that he's going to be with you, you should trust him enough to know his own mind. You do trust him, don't you?"

"Of course," Lance says immediately. He thinks he would trust Keith with his life, much less with his heart. His jittery stomach calms, the way it always does when Allura gives him advice. "This is just -- really new for me. I don't want to mess it up, not with him. But I think you're right, Allura."

"Of course I am," Allura says, tossing her hair back. Lance laughs, a loud snort that has her breaking her faux-haughty expression to burst into giggles.

"Are all queens equipped with rallying speeches, or is that a special feature?" Lance asks seriously.

"Honestly, a lot of the inspiration is from movies, and the rest is from Coran," Allura admits. "He's always giving out sage advice that can be applied across a wide variety of issues. Sometimes I think he does it just because he's gotten used to saying wise things, even when no one needs advice."

"Her Majesty Queen Allura of Altea, everyone," Lance says grandly. "Admitted pilferer of motivational speeches."

"Go back to your book, Lance," Allura tells him. "And think about inviting your boyfriend over so I can meet the person who's captured my dearest cousin's heart."

 

* * *

 

_Here's some news you can grab on the go:_

_Movie star Alexandra Cova told Style Now in an interview that she absolutely hated the prosthetics she had to wear for her transformation in Alien Space. Alexandra played an alien with jarring, catlike features, and said she had to endure about five hours of makeup to get ready for shooting._

_Prince Lance seems to have gone back underground after a fancy meal out with his new boyfriend, Keith Kogane. There's been no new sightings of the prince since, and word from sources close to the palace is that he's focusing on getting ready for his big trip abroad next spring. The prince will attend university again for his sophomore year this fall._

_In other news, famous musician --_

  

* * *

 

Two weeks go by slowly, and new gossip about other people emerges, and the requests for interviews trickle away, and Luxia finally gives Lance the go ahead to see Keith again. Keith is adamant that he wants to pick what they do when they meet up this time, but he won't tell Lance anything about what they're doing.

 "What should I wear?" Lance asks, examining his closet with his phone pressed to his shoulder. "Is there a dress code?"

"Wear your finest tuxedo," Keith says seriously.

"What, really?" he sputters, to which Keith replies, " _No_ ," so vehemently that Lance can't stop laughing for a solid minute.

"Just regular person clothes, Your Highness," Keith says, fondly mocking. "Actually, you should wear the outfit you did when you first came to the shop. Including the hat."

"You wanna go out in public?" Lance asks. "Are you sure?"

"Listen," Keith says firmly, "I'm not going to spend my summer locked away just because people like to pry into your business and take pictures of you for money. I'm going out with you, not the free press. They don't get to dictate where we go."

"Did you practice that? Be honest," Lance asks him, faintly amused.

"I tried it out on Shiro, to make sure you couldn't try to argue your way out of it with some kind of idea about protecting my honor or something," Keith says. "Because I knew you would. It didn't really work out the way I wanted, but Shiro did seem sort of pleased that I thought you would be worried about me."

"Oh," Lance says, feeling pleased himself. "Well, that's good at least."

"Just wait until I start pressuring him to let me go with you to another country," Keith says, laughing.

"You make it sound really scandalous, but a lot of people do exchange programs, Keith," Lance says primly. "Where are we supposed to be meeting?"

Keith has them meet at his house, after Lance manages to wrangle his security detail down to just two guards and Shay. Keith murmurs an address into the driver's ear, and he nods and pulls out, leaving Lance to pout at Keith in the backseat. Keith refuses to tell Lance where they're going no matter how much he questions him, and finally Lance subsides and just looks out the window, trying to figure out by following the view.

Keith's hand snakes its way into his own, distracting him completely. His palm is warm and smooth against Lance's. "You really did wear the same outfit from when we first met," Keith says, glancing over him. Lance blinks back at him, surprised. "Except the sunglasses, I guess."

"You remember what I was wearing?" he asks.

"You kind of left an impression," Keith points out, amused. Lance preens, adjusting his hat a little. When he thinks to look out of the window again, he's surprised to see that they've left the city behind.

"Are we headed to the forest?" he asks, watching trees crop up.

"The national forest, yeah," Keith says, grinning. "I asked Shay if it would be okay, and she asked higher ups, and they agree that us going on a hike together in the woods would be okay."

Lance kisses his cheek before he can stop himself. "You just wanted to do something outdoorsy, admit it."

"I don't know what all of you have against the outdoors," Keith says, rolling his eyes. "But honestly, there shouldn't be very many people around. Practically no one comes out here, and we won't be stuck in my house, or your -- uh, palace. Plus, fresh air."

"It's a good idea," Lance says. "Except for the part where we'll be hiking."

"Are you afraid you won't be able to keep up?" Keith asks, raising an eyebrow.

Lance snorts. "You wish, coffee boy."

The national park is blessedly quiet, with only a few cars in the parking lot when they arrive. There are no other human beings other than them around the starting point, and for a moment, if Lance pretends very hard that his guards and Shay aren't on the other side of the car discussing logistics, it feels like he and Keith are alone. The sky above is a startlingly bright shade of blue, and there are gentle wisps of clouds in the sky.

It's decided that Shay will walk in front of them, and the two guards will walk behind, giving them as much space as they can while still keeping them in their sights. It's enough distance that Lance doesn't feel strange at all walking alongside his boyfriend, holding his hand while they meander along the path.

"The summer's already mostly over," Keith says, sighing. The sound of birdsong and crickets calling covers up their low voices, so it's like they're in a pocket of space all their own.

"Worried about school?" Lance asks, squeezing Keith's hand.

"Not really," Keith says, although he doesn't sound completely honest. Lance gives him a look, and he gives Lance one back. "That's not it, really. Mostly it's just -- if this is how hard it is to spend time with you during the summer, when we have free time, what's it going to be like when we throw classes into the equation?"

"I'm not really usually mobbed by people, you know," Lance says, swinging Keith's hand back and forth as they climb over a rotted out log. "Usually when I'm in Altea, I only need to have Shay around. The biggest thing that happens is that someone snaps a picture of me walking to class, which isn't news, or someone wants to get an autograph."

"So what, you dating someone _is_ news?" Keith asks.

"Kinda?" Lance says. "I mean, it shouldn't be, but you are my first boyfriend. And really the first person I've dated in the public eye since I was fourteen." Lance reaches up and pushes a branch out of the way so it doesn't hit Keith, who is looking at him rather than paying attention to the path. "Keith, be careful."

"I'm your first boyfriend?" Keith asks, blinking.

"Yeah," Lance says slowly. "I mean, I've liked other boys, but you're the first one I've ever dated, so--"

"Cool," Keith says, making Lance cut himself off. He snorts a little at his seemingly indifferent tone.

"You like the idea of being my first boyfriend, don't you?" Lance asks, smirking.

"No," Keith denies, but the tips of his ears are turning pink. "Anyways, do you really think that after a while, no one will follow us?"

"Well," Lance says uncertainly, "Probably not for a little while. I mean, as long as we lay low and aren't doing anything crazy, we shouldn't rate very interesting news. When my cousin Felix, he's a duke, when he started dating this really popular athlete, they got a lot of media attention for maybe about a year? And then they stopped being very interesting." Lance shrugs. "I imagine that will happen for us, too."

"A year," Keith says thoughtfully. Lance feels his insides jolt, because a year -- it's a long time for people to be together, and he'd tossed it out like it was nothing. Maybe Keith wasn't really thinking about long term, maybe he was being too pushy. Lance knew how he felt about Keith, but he still hadn't really gauged what Keith was feeling.

"Yeah," he says awkwardly, "But that's just a guess. I really do think that things will die down, though. We'll be fine."

They spend the rest of the morning traversing one of the longer trails, stopping once or twice to explore a clearing or to drink bottles of water Keith had packed. They only see one other hiker, and Shay doubles back to tell them and has them step off of the path to let her pass by -- she sees two young boys and a slightly older girl, digging absently through a backpack, and doesn't slow down as she jogs past.

As the morning turns into afternoon, their energy begins to flag a little, and the end of the trail is nearing. Lance doesn't really want the date to end, but he can tell that they're all tired of being out in the heat. Shay seems unruffled, but the guards, dressed in outfits that cover their weapons, are clearly sweating, and Keith and Lance have both worked up a bit of sweat on their brows as well.

"I guess this is the end of the line," Lance says. Keith opens his mouth to respond, but Shay hurries their way back from where she went up ahead to the edge of the treeline, her brow furrowed. "Shay?"

"We have a problem," Shay says, gesturing for the guards to come closer. Lance feels his stomach clench, automatically stepping closer to Keith, but he's surprised to find Keith stepping in front of him, effectively blocking him off from view of whatever's waiting for them outside of the forest. "It is not the press," Shay tells them.

"Who is it?" one of the guards asks.

"Fans," Shay says, sighing. "I can see the signs from the edge of the path. It looks like someone has tipped someone off that we were heading here today and a few of your fans decided to show up." Her melodic voice is tinged with something like frustration.

"Who knew about this except you guys, though?" Lance asks, bewildered. " _I_ didn't even know until this morning."

"Shiro knows," Keith says quietly, "But there's no way he'd say something to anyone. And I guess Nyma knows, but she's the one who suggested I bring you out here. I don't think she'd say anything."

"It does not matter at this point," Shay says firmly. "There are only twenty of them, all younger girls and boys. I saw no press cameras. Should we call for backup?"

She's deferring to Lance on this, but Lance glances automatically at Keith. Keith blinks back at him, looking disheveled and sweaty but blank-faced.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, Lance," Keith says, brow furrowing. "It's just some kids, right? You were talking earlier about signing autographs and stuff."

"No autographs," one of the guards, Lara, says. "Our goal will  be to get to the car as soon as we can."

"Agreed," Shay says. "Very well. We will proceed with caution."

After a brief pause to make sure everyone is presentable, which includes Keith giving Lance a disbelieving look when he pulls a comb out of his bag, they continue down the path in a much closer formation, Keith and Lance sandwiched between Shay and the guards. As soon as Shay steps into the bright sunlight, the smattering of excited voices grows into a loud cheer.

"Lance! It's Prince Lance!"

"Oh my god!"

"And Keith! Look at them!"

The bombardment is much the same as the press had been, but Lance allows himself to look out and smile tentatively at them. There are people ranging from probably thirteen to eighteen present, all of them with phones held up and expressions of exultant joy on their faces. They've purposely kept Keith on the far side of the group, but he peers curiously around at the fans when they shout excitedly.

"Hello," Shay says pleasantly. "We're trying to get His Highness back home after a long morning of exercise. Thank you for keeping your distance."

"We love you Lance!" a group of girls shout, barely heard over the general yelling of Lance's name over and over.

Lance smiles briefly at them, waving a hand, deliberately putting his hand in front of his face to adjust his hat. There's going to be no doubt that it's him, but he can at least make the pictures as unusable as possible. The fans are young enough and few enough to not be too forceful, keeping their distance as Lance and Keith are ushered to the vehicle. There's a brief pause as one of the guards surreptitiously checks over the car to make sure it hasn't been tampered with, and then they're being angled into the backseat, to the obvious disappointment of the fans.

"Prince Lance, why are you with this guy?"

"Lance, date me instead!"

"Lance, don't go!"

The car door shuts on the noise, very reminiscent of the last time they'd been in this position. Lance glances over at Keith, who glances back; their eyes hold for a long moment, and then Keith bursts into laughter. Lance stares at him, at his shaking shoulders and his flushed face.

"Um," Lance says, slightly confused. Keith bends over double, laughing possibly harder than Lance has ever seen him since they've known each other. If it were anyone but Keith, Lance would think he was hysterical. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Keith says, gasping for air. "God, just -- it's never a dull moment with you, is it?"

"There are plenty of dull moments with me, thank you very -- wait, no," Lance says, "That's not -- Keith, stop laughing!"

Keith collapses against his side, sweaty and still giggling slightly. Lance tentatively puts an arm around him, sighing. "Sorry about that," Lance murmurs, resting his head against Keith's tiredly. Shay finally climbs into the car, having spoken briefly with the fans, and gestures for the guards to pull out.

"You've got to stop apologizing for stuff that you can't control," Keith says, reaching out for his hand. "I don't blame you, Lance."

"But--" Lance starts to say, but Keith pinches his hand sharply. "Ow!" he says petulantly.

"We just got done talking about how fans follow you around," Keith says, linking his fingers with Lance's. "Stop worrying about everything so much."

"I don't worry about everything," Lance mutters, but he relaxes a little nonetheless. They sit in silence during the drive back to town, and it's only when Keith pulls out his phone to check his messages that he tenses again. "What?" Lance asks.

"It's Nyma," Keith says, opening his phone and skimming texts. "She called me like ten times, she's really upset, hang on." He leans forward, out of Lance's embrace, and dials a phone number. It only rings once before it's picked up, and Lance hears Nyma's voice faintly through the speaker. "Nyma, are you okay?" Keith asks.

"No," Nyma says, sounding distraught, "Fuck, Keith, it's my fault. I'm so sorry, Plax and I were talking at her house during this get together and I mentioned suggesting the forest as a place you should go on a date, I was talking about how happy you were to get out of the house, but some of her friends overheard me and I swear I didn't know she knew who you were, or that she was some kind of royal stalker, and I never mentioned Lance at all, I would never have told anyone--"

"Nyma," Keith interrupts, "Calm down. It's -- we're okay. Nyma?"

"Keith!" Lance hears -- it's a different voice, a girl's voice. "Keith, I'm so sorry, please don't blame Nyma, I should have never invited that slimy brat--"

"Plax, it's fine, seriously," Keith says. He cuts his eyes over to Lance's, eyes dark and apologetic. "We're already headed home, please try to calm down Nyma?"

"Okay," Plax says, sucking in a deep breath and then releasing it, audible even to Lance. "Okay, yeah, sorry. I'm glad you're okay. Please tell the prince I'm sorry?"

"I will. I'll check on Nyma later, okay?" Keith says. Plax says something back, too muffled for Lance to make out, and Keith replies, "Are you at -- okay, I will. I know. Bye."

"Well," Lance says, trying to be lighthearted, "That's that mystery solved."

Keith leans back into the circle of Lance's arm again, sighing and covering his face with his hands. "They're not gonna be in trouble, are they?"

"No," Lance says, looking at Shay over the top of Keith's head firmly. "They're not."

"We were in a public venue, and we did not state that this was a confidential outing. There is nothing to get in trouble for," Shay says reassuringly. Keith releases a sigh.

"I've never heard Nyma sound like that," Keith says quietly. "I didn't even know she _could_ sound like that."

"She does seem to be fairly calm most of the time," Lance says. "Did you wanna check up on her?"

"She went to work at the shop," Keith says. "I'll check up on her after--"

"It's fine," Lance says, tightening his grip on Keith. "We'll park around back, and go in through the back entrance. No one even has to see us."

"This feels like tempting fate," Keith mutters, but he sounds relieved. His shoulders rise and fall against Lance's arm as he lets out a heavy breath. "Yeah, I'd really like to see how she's doing."

It takes a little bit of convincing, but they manage to get Shay and the guards to agree to drop them off behind the coffee shop, and Shay follows them as they sneak into the back entrance through the alley. Keith unlocks the door and immediately heads to Shiro's office, ducking his head in. Lance tentatively follows behind.

"Keith?" Shiro says, surprised. He's leaned forward in his chair, hands still splayed across his keyboard. His eyes trip immediately to Lance, who does his best not to visibly flinch, and he sighs. "Nyma's up front. She seemed pretty rattled earlier. Want me to get her back here?"

"Please," Keith says. Shiro pats his shoulder as he passes by, and dips his head in acknowledgement of Lance without actually addressing him. Lance has _no_ idea what he's thinking, which is sort of scary, considering he can usually read people really well. Shiro mystifies and terrifies him.

They only have to wait a moment before the door to the front opens, and Nyma walks through, her eyes dry but slightly red. Her hijab is a pale rose color today, and she's fussing with the ends of it stuck under her apron straps before she looks up and notices them.

"Keith," she says, shocked, and then her face shutters and she sighs. "I can't believe I ruined your date."

"You didn't," Keith says, stepping forward and gingerly touching her shoulder. "We were already done with the hike. It was a good suggestion."

"I shouldn't have been talking about it around other people -- or even with Plax, I guess," Nyma says, rubbing at her face with one hand. She looks a little ragged, which is something Lance isn't used to seeing when it comes to Nyma, who's always perfectly put together. "I'm sorry, to both of you."

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I know you were on shift today, but you could have called out, you know that, right?" Keith asks quietly. "Shiro would understand if you couldn't.

"I'm fine," Nyma says dismissively. "I feel bad, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to do my job. Besides," she says, smiling slightly, "Plax is in the lobby cheering me up. She's already copped like two free drinks from Pidge."

"Sounds like her," Keith says, smiling too. "You're sure you're okay?"

"Why are you reassuring _me_?" Nyma asks, crossing her arms. A small smirk creeps over her face, more familiar than the weary expression she's worn so far. Keith tenses next to him. "You're the one who's been whining for two weeks about being away from Prince Pretty Eyes here, I messed everything up for you--"

" _Nyma_ ," Keith says, flushing red. She chuckles a little, reaching out and hugging Keith briefly. He doesn't really hug her back, but he does touch her shoulder again carefully as she pulls away.

"I'm okay, Keith. Thanks for looking out for me," she says, stepping back to the door. Her smile looks more genuine when she flashes it at them. "Hey, Prince Pretty Eyes," she says, looking over at Lance. "Give this guy a kiss for me, okay?"

"Can do," Lance says, saluting her cheekily. Keith rolls his eyes and turns around, heading for Shiro's office again. Lance watches him walk away, and then looks at Nyma again. "It really is okay, you know."

"Thanks," Nyma says, adjusting her apron. "Watch out for him, okay?"

"Of course," Lance replies, and she vanishes to the front of the shop again, leaving him standing in the hallway. He tiptoes to Shiro's office door, where Keith is standing just inside.

"I'm going to head home," Keith is saying, arms crossed. "You guys okay here?"

"We're fine, Keith," Shiro says with a smile. He glances up at Lance as he appears in the doorway. "Your Highness." His tone is measured as he looks at Lance, who feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Sorry for dropping in like this Shi -- Mr. Sh -- oh fuck," Lance says, realizing he doesn't know Shiro's last name. He knows that Keith and Shiro have different last names, but he can't remember what Shiro's is. He colors when Keith laughs, and Shiro cracks a small smile.

"Shiro is fine," he says enigmatically. Lance makes a mental note to ask someone at the palace what Shiro's name is, because that's something he should know about his boyfriend's brother. "Take care getting Keith home."

"I will," Lance says, higher pitched than he wants his voice to sound.

In the car, Keith thanks the guards and then leans back in the seat, sighing. Lance tentatively puts a hand on his leg, patting him. "One day we'll have a normal date," Lance says. "Maybe we should go back to just me going to your house after all."

"I like the excitement," Keith says, his mouth curled into a smirk. Lance laughs despite the lingering solemn mood, and Keith looks pleased.

"I should have known you liked to live on the edge," Lance says teasingly. "You've got a motorcycle, you're like every bad boy cliche in one person."

"You've told me before you wanted to ride on my bike," Keith says, frowning. Lance hums noncommittally, although his blood pulses excitedly at the thought. He's not sure how many people he'll have to beg to get permission for something like that, but he's not above breaking rules to get to get to do it. He's drifted off into a daydream more often than he wants to admit, thinking about what it would be like to be pressed completely against Keith, to get to hold him as tightly as he wanted, to feel the purr of the engine and the wind on his face.

He clears his throat. "Doesn't take away from my point."

"I work in a coffee shop and read books all day," Keith argues.

"You have like five leather jackets!" Lance says. There's a soft jolt as the car stops in front of Keith's house. Keith opens the door before anyone can get out to open it for him, and Lance follows him out without bothering to ask if he can. He gives Shay a pleading look and she barely nods before he closes the door and follows Keith to the front porch. "Well."

"Well," Keith repeats, putting his hands in his pockets. His hair is still mussed from their hike, and Lance's hand is reaching out to smooth it down before he's really aware of what he's doing. Keith blinks quietly up at him, eyes dark and faintly amused.

"We'll get it right eventually," Lance says, cupping Keith's cheek.

"All I want is to be with you," Keith replies, his hand covering Lance's. "The rest is just details."

Lance's stomach swoops, or maybe it's his heart tumbling to lay at Keith's feet. He can't believe he ever doubted that he was in love with this boy. His heartbeat feels like it's pounding out of his body, like Keith should be able to hear it.

"Oh my god," he says faintly. "Keith, you--"

"Do I win the romance contest?" Keith asks, tilting his head with a wicked grin.

Lance doesn't answer, but leans in and kisses Keith, and it's nothing like their last kiss on this porch. That kiss had been chaste and gentle, but this one lights a fire in Lance's chest and grows, has him pushing Keith back towards his front door and pressing him against it. Keith responds like electricity in his arms, flickering like a flame, overwhelmingly volatile in his grasp. Keith doesn't give into the kiss - Keith pushes back, twisting his fists in Lance's shirt, pulling him down to a better angle.

When they pull apart, they're both short on breath, and Keith's cheeks are satisfyingly pink. Lance looks at him for a long time, at the freckle at the corner of his eye and the distracting way his chest is rising and falling. He has to convince himself to step back a little, to stop pinning Keith to the door.

"Cheater," Keith murmurs finally, slowly letting go of his shirt.

"Let's call it a tie," Lance says, laughing. There's a honking noise, but Lance doesn't bother to turn around. "I guess I have to go," he says, sighing.

"I'll call you," Keith says, smoothing the wrinkles in Lance's shirt absently.

"Not if I call you first," Lance says. He drops one last kiss on Keith's forehead, and then backs down the steps of the porch towards the car. He opens the door and looks back at Keith one last time.

"Bye, Lance," Keith calls, smiling.

"Bye, pretty eyes," Lance calls, and laughs as he closes the car door on Keith's scowl.

 

* * *

 

_jellyfishing @plaxplease: don't spread pictures of famous people when they're trying to have private lives, it's gross_

_waterprince @princeofmyheart: lance shouldn't be dating someone like that kid anyways, how did he even meet him_

_casey @ cons @caseyfacey: you're probably just covering for your creepy friend. why did he take lance to the forest in the first place??? what kind of date is that???_

_mr mcclain @dukeoftaujeer: wasn't he that weird kid in the back of biology who just read all the time? i thought he was on drugs or something_

_jellyfishing @plaxplease: kindly go fuck yourselves_

_nyama @nyama: plax just block them, they're useless. i'm gonna call you_

  

* * *

 

Lance wakes up to his phone buzzing with text messages, which is unusual. It's far too early for Keith to be awake, and Hunk isn't the type to send more than one message in a row -- when he sleepily pulls his phone off of his bedside table, he sees that it's from an unknown number. Brow furrowed, he thumbs the messages open.

 _Lance it's Nyma_ , the first one reads. _We've got a problem._

His stomach starts to sink, and he drops his phone, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes briefly, trying to wake himself up properly. When he picks up the phone, the messages remain starkly on the screen.

_Keith is having to get a new phone because someone passed around his number and he's been getting harassed by people._  
_Not the press just regular assholes._  
_Pidge gave me your number and told me to let you know because Keith isn't gonna tell you on his own._  
_They're busy making sure his new number doesn't get out._  
_He's fine but these people were being really nasty.  
_ _One of them brought up his parents._

His vision goes dark for a second, fury rushing through him like a flood, and when it eventually clears, he pulls up Pidge's number and texts them: _Give me his new number_.

He gets back, almost immediately, a phone number and a message: _He's protected now, don't worry._

Lance takes a deep breath and presses the call button; it rings three times before the call is picked up, and there's a tentative, "Hello?" Keith sounds tired, weariness scraping his voice rough.

Lance clenches his fist in his lap and says, "Morning, sunshine."

"Lance," Keith says, surprised. There's a shuffling noise, and then he huffs out a breath. "I should have known one of them would say something. I was just gonna pretend I dropped my phone in the toilet or something."

"You weren't gonna tell me?" Lance asks, standing up sharply. He feels restless all of a sudden, tension buzzing under his skin like pins and needles. He starts to pace around his room, wrapping an arm around his middle like he can hold in his budding worry.

"It's not a big deal," Keith says, sighing. "It wasn't even that many people. Just kids from school being assholes. I've seen youtube threads with worse messages." He laughs a little, but it's not a real laugh, and Lance feels something in himself rupture.

"Keith, it's not -- they were harassing you! They brought up -- I know you have to be upset, okay? Stop acting like it's fine."

There's silence for a long moment, and Lance stops pacing, heart aching in his chest, shame and guilt and worry warring for dominance in his gut. Keith takes a slow breath, and then lets it out, and says, "Fine. You're right. I'm pissed off. My parents -- they shouldn't have dragged my parents into anything. Pidge had to talk me down for an hour to keep me from saying anything." He takes another shuddering breath, and says, "But I don't give a shit about those people. They're idiots who didn't know me in high school and they don't know me now. I don't care what they have to say."

He sounds sure of himself, he sounds confident, but there's the smallest tremor in his voice, a tiredness that Lance can't ignore.

He opens his mouth to respond, but catches sight of himself in the mirror hung on the back of his closet. He's caught off guard by how unfamiliar he looks, his flushed face and wide eyes, how frustrated and worried and miserable his expression is, and realizes that everything that’s happened this summer, all of the press and the fans and the lack of privacy, it’s not going away. It can’t go away, because Lance is a prince, and Keith is a boy who works in a coffee shop, and they’re from two different worlds.

He abruptly comes to a decision. It's the only decision he can bring himself to make. It's what's best.

He tells himself this, but his heart feels like lead in his chest.

"It's too much," he says, covering his face with his hand and turning away from the mirror. "This is all just -- I should have known better. Maybe with someone I cared less about -- but not with you, I can't keep doing this to you."

"Lance, what are you talking about?" Keith asks, sounding confused.

"We shouldn't be together. I'm not going to keep putting you through this stupid shit," Lance says. His voice is remarkably calm, considering how wildly his pulse is racing. "It was dumb of me to pretend it was okay for you to keep getting treated like this."

"Lance," Keith says, beginning to sound agitated, "It's not your choice to decide what I can handle."

"You won't tell me what you can't handle," Lance retorts sharply. "You weren't even going to tell me you were _harassed_ into changing your phone number by people who claim to be my fans." Keith's silence is telling, and there's a crackle of static as he shifts the phone. "I can't control you Keith, but I can control myself, and I'm choosing to put you ahead of what I want."

"Lance, come on," Keith says, now clearly frustrated. "We've been having this same conversation all summer, I'm fine, I just want--"

"I'm not fine," Lance says. His own voice sounds distant to his ears, like he's hearing himself from far away. "I love you but I'm not going to keep doing this to you. It's just -- it's too much."

He hangs up the phone before Keith can respond, shutting it off and gripping it tightly before he throws it onto his bed, where it bounces harmlessly. He sucks in one deep breath, and then another, and tells himself that he did the right thing.

An hour later, there are taps on his door and Shay opens it tentatively, peering inside. She doesn't look surprised to see him looking miserable, nor does she say anything about the fact that it's nearly nine in the morning and he's not dressed. Someone must have messaged her. Lance tries very hard not to think of Keith, without luck; the thought of him sends a wave of guilt and anxiety through him that leaves him nauseous.

"You are meant to have a meeting with the coordinator for the hospital drive in an hour, but I do not believe that would be wise to attend currently," she says softly.

Lance sniffs, sitting curled up on the floor next to his bed. His eyes feel hot with unshed tears, but he refuses to let himself cry over something that he'd chosen to do. He looks up at Shay and shakes his head silently.

"I will inform her," Shay says. She hesitates in the doorway, and steps inside the room halfway. "Do you wish -- should I ask Hunk to come?"

"No," Lance says softly. "I just need one day, Shay."

"Very well," she says quietly. She takes care to close the door behind her gently.

 

* * *

 

 _(5:45) What do you want us to do?  
__(5:45) Shay and I are here to help._  

_(5:46) I need someone to get me into the palace._

_(5:46) Shay can handle that. What are you gonna do? He's gonna be gone all day tomorrow to make up for missed meetings._

_(5:47) I'll talk to him when I can.  
__(5:47) But can Shay get me a meeting with the queen?_  

_(5:47) Keith, what are you doing???_

_(5:47) Can she?_

_(5:48) Yeah, she can swing it. Allura's been wanting to meet with you anyways._

_(5:48) Good. Text me the details?_

_(5:48) Will do._

_(5:51) Hey, Hunk?_

_(5:51) Yeah?  
__(5:55) Keith? You there?_  

_(5:56) How is he?_

_(5:56) Not good._  
_(5:56) He's trying to convince himself he's doing the right thing.  
_ _(5:58) Keith?_

 

* * *

  

Lance is tired when he enters the palace again -- but then, Lance has been tired all day, a nagging weariness that won't dissipate no matter how much coffee he drinks. Shay had been a warm but silent presence at his side, steering him from meeting to fitting to paperwork signing.

No one had commented openly on his demeanor, but he'd caught several people exchanging glances at his terse responses. He'd been completely silent during his fitting for an upcoming banquet, unable to bring himself to be as enthusiastic as he usually was with his tailor, and she'd sounded confused and a little hurt at his non-reaction. Even now, though, he can't bring himself to really care.

He does his best not to think of Keith, but it's impossible. He spends the whole day going over everything that's happened, second guessing himself and everything he'd said. He thinks about the weariness in Keith's voice, about the fact that it had taken only two short months for Keith's life to upend, and it was all because of Lance. He should have known from the start, when he'd gotten Keith into trouble that had almost killed him. He should have never even started a relationship. All he'd done was make things worse. Before Lance had only had a crush, but now -- knowing he can't be with Keith leaves him feeling like an open wound by the end of the day, jagged and sore. There's a lingering ache in his chest that won't go away.

A soft, "Your Highness," jolts him out of his distracted thoughts.

"Her Majesty requests your presence at dinner," one of the staff tells him. He suppresses a wince, but only just. He briefly entertains the thought of telling the woman to send a message back to Allura that he can't go, that he's too tired and heartbroken and empty to even pretend to act normal, but he can't ignore a summons from the queen. Allura would know something was wrong.

"I'll be there after I freshen up a bit," he tells her, smiling weakly. She dips her head in a slight bow and hurries away, leaving him to continue his trudge to his room.

He spends the brief respite in his room forcing himself to pull it together. He practices smiling in the mirror, and combs his hair neatly, and puts on his best diplomatic face. He'll sit down with Allura for dinner, act normal for an hour or so, and then excuse himself due to feeling poorly due to bad food from earlier in the day.

When he enters the dining room, Allura is already seated at the head of the table, smiling. Lance moves towards the chair to her right, his usual seat when they eat together, but stops short when he realizes someone is already sitting there. There's a dark head of hair visible over the top of the chair, painfully familiar.

"Lance," Allura says, still smiling. He bows automatically to her, but his mind is whirling. Keith twists in his chair to look at Lance, but doesn't say anything. He's wearing another suit, with red accents this time, and it makes him look so lovely that Lance steps closer despite himself. "I've been having a wonderful conversation with Mr. Kogane here. We spent the afternoon in mother's garden."

"I'm glad you had a good day," Lance says stiffly. Keith's eyes are darkly intent on him, and he's finding it hard not to stare back.

"Please sit down," Allura says, indicating her left. "I've had the cooks prepare pasta carbonara the way you like. That's his favorite meal," she whispers to Keith as an aside.

"I've never had it," Keith admits. He sounds calm, vaguely curious, not at all like Lance feels -- his stomach is twisting itself into knots, his pulse tripping uneasily.

Lance sits next to Allura, across from Keith, and stares at the table. Allura claps her hands together cheerfully.

"Well then, let's begin." At her words, the door leading to the corridor opens and a trolley rolls in with three bowls of pasta emerge, placed carefully in front of each of them in turn. It smells delicious, and it is his favorite thing to eat at the palace, so Lance's stomach stops rolling to growl appreciatively. Allura laughs, and Keith's mouth curves at the corners. "I knew you would--"

"Your Majesty." They twist to look over at the doorway, where Coran is suddenly standing, his brow furrowed.

"Yes, Coran?" Allura asks.

"There is an urgent matter needing your approval, my queen," Coran says. His face remains serious, but Lance can detect humor in his eyes; his stomach starts to sink, and he's aware of what's going on even before he looks back at Allura. She barely looks surprised, but then, she's always had a terrible poker face.

"I'll come at once," she says, standing up. Lance stands as well, and Keith belatedly follows suit, but she waves at them to stop, and they regain their seats uncertainly. "Sit down, sit down, no need for that. Please go ahead and eat, I'll be back shortly. Well, not too soon. An appropriate amount of time for signing--"

"Your Majesty," Coran says pointedly.

"Yes, of course," Allura says hastily. "Enjoy yourselves."

She leaves the room with little fanfare, closing the door firmly behind her. Then they're alone in the room, complete silence engulfing them. Lance takes a deep breath, and then looks up at Keith. Keith is looking back at him with the same shrewd eyes he's always had. He's leaned forward in his chair, arms on the table, with complete disregard for dining etiquette; his tie is crooked, as it inevitably seems to become, and his hair is still windswept from being in the garden. He doesn't fit in this opulent dining room, fit for kings and queens, at all.

Lance is so, so in love with him.

"What are you doing here?" he asks quietly.

Keith picks up the wrong fork and starts spinning pasta around the tines, glancing up at him nonchalantly. "Having dinner with the queen."

"Keith," Lance says.

"Lance," Keith replies in the same tone.

"This isn't a joke," Lance says bitterly. He abandons decorum and throws himself back in his chair, slumping down with his arms crossed. "I made a decision and I'm sticking to it."

"To protect me from yourself," Keith says sardonically. He takes a bite of pasta and swallows, and then blinks in surprise at the bowl. His dark eyes light up with genuine pleasure. "That's really good."

"We use really fresh eggs," Lance says absently, and then scowls at himself when Keith makes an appreciative noise. "Forget the pasta. Keith, I'm not changing my mind."

"Well I can change mine," Keith says. It's so different from what he was expecting him to say that Lance draws up short.

"What?" he asks, confused.

"You were right," Keith says, idly twirling his fork through the pasta again. Lance's brow furrows, but Keith isn't done talking. "I wasn't telling you the truth about how I felt. I thought that -- I just wanted to make sure you knew that I wasn't blaming you. You told me from the start what it would be like, and I agreed, so I didn't want to complain. So here it is: I don't like all of the pictures. I don't like the fact that people think I'm not good enough for you. And I _really_ don't like waking up at one in the morning to a bunch of text messages telling me that my dead parents would have been ashamed to see me selling myself for attention from a prince."

"Keith--" Lance chokes out, misery like a knife in his gut.

"I was telling myself that I was being silly. That being upset or annoyed was useless." Keith pauses to take another bite. "But I was wrong. That was stupid. You've been worried about me all summer and I've been handwaving everything."

Lance closes his eyes and takes a slow, shuddering breath. "I know. That's why I did what I did."

"It's probably for the best," Keith says quietly. The words seem to echo in the empty room, magnified by the silence around them. "To stay apart. It's not fair to you, to have to worry about me all the time, to have to deal with fallout from our relationship."

"Right," Lance murmurs. His heart is a chasm, splintering along fault lines. The knife in his gut twists deeper. Hearing the words from Keith's mouth is a thousand times worse than saying them himself. Before, he'd felt like he might be able to go on pretending things were okay -- now he just wants to crawl to his room, curl up on his bed, and refuse to move for the rest of the year.

"Except I'm in love with you."

Lance's eyes open. Keith is staring at him, a stubborn look on his face despite his scarlet cheeks and the way his hands are clenched on the table. Lance opens his mouth, but words won't come. He thinks his ears are ringing.

"I thought maybe I would feel relieved," Keith continues. "When you told me we shouldn't be together. I thought that I would be upset but that my life would go back to normal and I would be okay." His mouth crooks wryly. "It only took an hour before I realized that I would never be relieved, because I was in love with you."

"Keith--" Lance says weakly, heart pounding so hard he can feel it in his fingertips. "You don't--"

"I would rather go through another ten years of this summer than let you go," Keith says quietly. He stands up from the table, chair scraping loudly. "You said you loved me, the other day. Did you mean that?"

Lance colors violently. He hadn't realized he'd said that until after the fact, but he can't lie to Keith. "Of course I did."

Keith swallows, his throat clicking audibly. His flush remains, pink blooming across his face like flower petals. "Okay. Then I think we should try again."

"Nothing's changed, Keith," Lance says desperately. "I just -- I just want you to be happy."

"I already told you that _you_ make me happy," Keith snaps. "What do I have to do, Lance? I'm here, at your palace, in a suit -- I spent the day with the queen of Altea, asking her how to prove to you that I was serious! Do you know what she said?"

"Something stolen from Coran, probably," Lance mutters.

"She said you trusted me," Keith says simply. Lance stares at him, wide-eyed. "So I need you to trust me now. I want to do this. I know what I'm getting into, I know it's going to be hard, but I don't care."

Something terrible and bright is taking hold in Lance's chest, fluttering at the edges of his rib cage, pressing against his skin. Keith's eyes are almost glowing as he glares down at Lance; he looks more like he wants to fight than make up, and yet the sight of him makes all of Lance feel horribly and wonderfully happy.  

Because he doesn't want to do the right thing. He doesn't want to do what's best for both of them. He wants Keith.

He pushes his chair back carefully, almost silent in comparison to Keith's earlier shove. He walks to the side of the table, crossing behind Allura's chair until he's face to face with Keith, who tilts his head up to keep his eyes locked on Lance's. He makes himself stop when he's a foot or so away, hands held firmly at his sides.

"You have to promise," Lance says, "To tell me when you're not okay." Keith's expression clears into something tentatively pleased, and Lance hastens to add, "I mean it, Keith, I can't--"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence because Keith pushes himself onto his tiptoes and kisses him, pressing hard against him. He steals the breath from Lance's lungs, until he's lightheaded and dizzy, spellbound by the feeling of Keith in his arms, that same flickering flame as before. Keith tastes like expensive food, and Allura's favorite brand of tea, and he tastes of coffee creamer and book pages and sleepless nights. He's the sunshine in the morning and every moon Lance has watched while talking to him. Holding him now, tasting him now, Lance has no idea how he ever managed to give him up.

"Well then!"

They break apart, both of them pink-faced, to see Allura beaming at them in the doorway, hands clasped together. "It seems you've had a very fruitful conversation in my absence. Oh, the food has gone cold, hasn't it? I'll have it warmed back up, and we can continue our meal." Keith hastily lets go of Lance's suit jacket, where the fabric is very obviously wrinkled, looking faintly embarrassed.

"Your Majesty," he says. "Thank you."

"Of course, Mr. Kogane. I'd been telling Lance to bring you to the palace properly for a while now." Allura sits down, and they follow suit after a brief interlude to fix their hair and clothing. Nothing can be done for how flushed Keith's cheeks are, or how red his mouth still is, but Allura is valiantly ignoring it.

"Please call me Keith, Your Majesty," Keith says. Allura smiles and looks sideways at Lance.

"I suppose I should," she says. "Now, Lance, tell me about your plans next spring. Keith was telling me about possibly joining you there. I think that sounds lovely."

"It does," Lance says, looking at Keith, who grins back at him. Underneath the table, a foot taps against his ankle. His heart overflowing with happiness, Lance nudges back against Keith, and suddenly feels for the first time that things really will be okay.

 

* * *

 

 _We're so pleased to be sitting down with you two, thank you for taking the time to speak with us. Your Highness, Keith, how are things?_  

_They're good. Honestly I'm glad to be sitting still now._

_What do you mean?_

_Here we go._

_He's constantly dragging us around Paris, looking at things! He plans all of our outings. For someone who never traveled before he knows how to pack a thousand things into one day._

_It's really beautiful there. I'm happy to be back in Altea for the holiday though._

_You see, he doesn't deny it!_

_If Lance had his way, we would spend all of our time eating petit fours at home and watching very bad soap operas._

_You two sound like an old married couple, haha! Speaking of, it is coming up on your first anniversary, isn't it?_

_We're about a month out, yeah._

_Any big plans? How are you feeling about it?_

_We're going to relive our first summer together. Do everything the way we wanted to over again. It was Lance's idea._

_That sounds awfully romantic._

_Don't say that, he'll get an even bigger head than he already has._

_I told you a long time ago that I'm excellent at romance, sweetheart. Don't act surprised._

_I'm never surprised with you anymore._

_Then I'll just have to keep trying, won't I?_

 

* * *

 

"A year," Keith says, sprawled on the blanket underneath the humongous tree in the palace gardens. The whole garden is empty, ostensibly for repairs to a fountain, but Lance had begged the groundskeepers for the morning to themselves. Shay isn't even very close by; she's with Hunk out back of the palace, playing cards with Pidge. He and Keith have had time to themselves over the past year, have worked hard to make that time for themselves, but every time it happens it's still nice to know that they're really alone. 

The blanket is the same as before, but today they have grilled cheese sandwiches, with a blackened one because Lance had gotten distracted kissing Keith while it was cooking. It was too funny a coincidence to throw it out, so they'd packed it.

"A year," Lance agrees, leaning back against the tree trunk. He takes Keith's hand in his own, tracing the lines in his palm gently. "Last year, I thought that a year was a very long time, but it hasn't been long enough."

"You're ridiculous," Keith says, flushing red.

"It's been a year and you're _still_ not used to me saying stuff like that, huh?" Lance teases.

"I don't think I ever will be," Keith says. He rests his head against Lance's shoulder, tucking his body securely up along his.

"Sounds good to me," Lance says, laughing. He takes Keith's hand and presses a firm kiss to the palm, then curls Keith's fingers around it. Keith stiffens against against him, sitting up straighter. He raises his hand to eye level and opens it.

Sitting in his palm is a plain silvery ring. Keith stares at it.

"It's just a promise," Lance says quickly, suddenly not at all certain about it, or about Keith's reaction. "It's not -- I'm not -- I wanted to give you a gift, I thought all kinds of things, but all I kept coming back to was what I wanted to -- so I just -- sorry, this was stupid, it's too--"

"Do you think I could get a word in, Your Highness?" Keith asks. His voice is so warm that Lance feels his own body relax again automatically. "A promise?"

"Sort of like a placeholder until I decide to do it for real," Lance says. Keith carefully puts the ring on his right ring finger, where it fits perfectly, because Lance had spent a very anxious morning while Keith was snoring in bed measuring his finger over and over until he was certain of the size.

"When will that be?" Keith asks, tilting his head up to look at Lance. His hand curls into a fist and he absently touches the ring with his other.

"Haven't decided yet," Lance says innocently. "Maybe it'll be next year."

"Maybe I'll do it first," Keith says challengingly. His crossed feet swing over to nudge at Lance's in a familiar motion. Lance laughs, and it feels like it's bubbling out of his throat.

"Always a competition with you," he murmurs, nudging back. Keith snorts.

"Look who's talking," he replies pointedly. A pleasant silence falls over them, broken only by the breeze blowing through the leaves, the sound of cars far off in the distance.

"Thank you," Keith says after a moment, lifting his hand to look at the ring again. "A year," he says, and Lance doesn't know if he's referring to the year to come or the last year.

Certainly it hadn't been easy all the time, and there had been more arguments and tears and annoyances. They were still followed by paparazzi and fans in equal measure, and Shiro still hadn't really warmed up to Lance, and school was always an unwelcome hassle, especially in another country.

But there had been many, many good moments -- waking up with Keith in Paris, the sunrise caught on strands of his hair while they stared at the burnt orange of the sky; sneaking away in the middle of the afternoon at school to buy ice cream from a street vendor, swapping flavors and kissing sticky strawberry off of Keith's nose; talking with him on the phone at night, listening to his voice slowly get softer and softer as he fell asleep, the absent way he murmured _I love you_ into the receiver. They've had a hundred more dates, and a thousand more kisses, and Lance is more in love than he could have ever imagined. He hadn't even known bodies could hold this much feeling. Sometimes he was sure that he was overflowing in a way that would drive Keith away, but they'd never come close to giving up again.

Perhaps it wasn't a whirlwind romance like the king and queen before, but Lance was deliriously happy anyways.

"What are you thinking about?" Keith asks quietly, glancing up at him. The shadows of the tree are dappled across his cheek like freckles, and Lance is momentarily distracted.

"Fairy tales," he says after a moment, and grins when Keith's brow furrows confusedly, and kisses the question off of his lips, distracting them both for a long, long time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed! To be honest I'm very tempted to write a royal wedding now :) I've got a big bang to work on, so it might take some time to get out, but I've honestly been overdue to write a wedding for these two. 
> 
> Anyways, you can find me on tumblr at [apvrrish](http://apvrrish.tumblr.com), and on twitter [@apvrrish](http://twitter.com/apvrrish).


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